


Just friends?

by MunchkinPumpkin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 62,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7532362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MunchkinPumpkin/pseuds/MunchkinPumpkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Ron ever confess his secret crush on his best friend? Despite the awkward tension and Hermione's nagging, Ron has a hard time figuring out his feelings and sexuality.<br/>Set during 4th movie/book, starting with the Yule ball, a touching dance and an overcaring Ron.</p><p>#ON TEMPORARY HIATUS#</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Trust us to be the only loosers without dates...” Ron threw himself onto his bed in anguish. The ball was tonight and neither he or Harry had anybody to accompany them. They had tried and tried again but all that fell before them were rejections.

  
“I know but we have to go. Maybe we'll meet somebody there.” Harry had very little hope of that happening but staying in the common room mopeing around wasn't an option.

  
“Yeah right! If we were going to go with anybody then we would have dates already.” Ron re-opened the box containing his dress robes. He held them up to take another ghastly look at the old, moth ridden bonnet and cloak. “Maybe you could find somebody...but me...I mean take a good look at this thing! No girl is going to want to be seen with me let alone dance.”

  
“But you don't want to dance.” Harry wasn't dancing, he knew that much. Ron couldn't even dance if he wanted to, he'd probably break some unfortunate girl's toes.

  
“I'm just saying...so...what are we going to do?” Ron took off his slippers and stood up. He proceeded to undo his jeans, ready to begin getting dressed.

  
“Let's just go together.” Harry paid no attention to Ron undressing himself. If anything he felt sorry for Ron, having to wear what he was given. He had offered to buy him some new robes but Ron had flat out refused claiming that his mum would have wanted him to wear it.

  
“As friends- that's a bit pathetic.” Ron shook his head disapprovingly.

  
“Well, we've got no other options. Its not like we're going to dance; just go and sit there...you know.” Yes it was an awkward option but there wasn't much the two could do, going as friends wouldn't be too bad.

  
“I guess. Alright...well. I'll just go get an’ dressed.” Ron threw his jeans onto the bed and took out the dress shirt and trousers. He effortlessly walked over to the bathroom. All that was going through his mind was how long and boring the night would be.

  
“Go ahead. I'll wait for you to be done.” Harry brushed his mess of hair. There wasn't much he could do with it, he couldn't really brush it back or put it to one side. It was just in a permanent state of unkept. Still he pushed it to one side, bits started but at least it looked like he had made some attempt to control it.  
Meanwhile Ron was dressed and brushing his teeth over the sink. He just kept trying to ignore how itchy his shirt was and how frilly his collar seemed to be. This was surely a nightmare. Ron spat and rinsed before braving it and coming out fully dressed.

  
“I look like my Great Aunt Tessy...” Ron stopped in front of the full length mirror. He lifted one arm and inhaled, “smell like my Great Aunt Tessy.”

  
“They're not that bad.” Harry couldn't stop staring, on they seemed less horrid and shapeless but still quite disastrous.

  
“But look at you! Those are robes!” Ron gestured to all of Harry, feeling sort of betrayed that his friend didn't look as terrible as he did.

  
“I did offer, Ron.” Harry once again reminded. Ron felt hopeless he knew he should have swallowed his pride and accepted, now it was too late. All he could do was exhale heavily.

  
“I know...” He slipped his feet into his shoes and tied the laces. He looked up, “your hair...it looks good.” Harry felt his cheeks burn at the compliment, Ron daren't look up at Harry as he too was embarrassed.

  
“Thanks...I brushed it.” Harry coughed loudly to distract from the tension.

  
“I doubt Hermione is ready. We should go wait for her in the hall.” Ron stood and stretched out. Both of them hadn't spoken to Hermione all day after Ron had made her mad by insisting she was going alone and that they should have gone together to 'spare' the embarrassment.

  
“Right. Okay.” The two left the room with Ron turning to take one more look in the mirror before shutting the door, as if anything had changed or he looked any less terrible.

  
~

  
“I still don't see Hermione. Do you even think she's coming?” Harry looked around and peered into the dance hall to check for his friend. He was impressed with the extent the teachers had gone to, the hall looked spectacular, charmed snow and a beautiful silver tree. Then again, he'd be disappointed with anything less.

  
“Of course not. She's probably in bed crying because nobody asked her.” Ron scoffed smugly.

  
“Nobody asked you either Ron.” Harry quickly reminded him.

  
“Yeah but...that's totally different.” He shrugged off the attack. Murmurs that surrounded them became louder. 'Wow isn't she beautiful’ came from each and every direction.

  
“Yeah she is.” Harry had his eyes fixated on Cho, his first choice and first rejection. She had arms linked with Cedric. He knew that Cho had made the right choice...Cedric was a better wizard and far more handsome than himself...no wonder he was rejected.

  
“Hermione looks lovely. I wonder who she's with?” Nevil caught the boy's attention. They both turned to watch Hermione make her entrance. She did look lovely, more than lovely, she looked stunning. She wore a flattering purple dress that flowed aimlessly as she came down the stairs. Hermione extended her arm and a masculine hand took it. Attention shifted to the owner of the hand. It was none other than Viktor Krum. Hermione smiled at her friends before breezing past.

  
“Was that Hermione? With Viktor Krum?” Nevil had to question what he had just seen. For the past week she had torn Krum down, he wasn't in her good books until tonight.

  
“No way.” Ron stuttered. It was ridiculous, he was seeing things.

  
“Mr Potter!” Professor McGonagall called out for Harry. He turned to greet her. “Well don't you look dashing Mr Weasley.” It took all of her dignity not to laugh at the sight before her. “Are you ready to dance?” Harry turned his head to the side with confusion.

  
“Dance?”

  
“I'm sure I told you, our champions are always the first to dance! So are you and your partner ready?” Both Ron and Harry looked at each other. What were they going to do?

  
“I don't have a partner...I came with Ron.” Harry felt dreadfully embarrassed.

  
“Never you mind Potter. Just take Mr Weasley and dance. It's unconventional but as long as you get out there and dance.” Professor McGonagall patted Harry on the shoulder. “Either that or you can dance with me. I don't mind Mr Potter.” Harry's eyes widened, that idea sounded worse.

  
“Don't worry Professor. We've got it.” Harry nodded. Professor McGonagall smiled, grabbed the base of her dress and scurried away.

  
“Are you absolutely mental?” Ron whispered loudly.

  
“It's one dance. I'm sorry Ron.” Harry grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him towards the Great Hall. Ron resisted the best he could without saying no.

  
“When the music starts I want you to go out there and dance. Everybody ready?” Harry and Ron tried to avoid the crowd around them, their eyes burning holes in their heads. The other champions were amongst those who couldn't retract their glances, Hermione was beside herself trying not to burst out into a laughing frenzy. Cho's face screwed up slightly, obviously she didn't see the situation as funny at all, Harry didn't know if he could ever face her again.

  
The music began to play and Ron rubbed the base of his neck awkwardly as they moved forward into center stage. Neither of them remembered how to dance but faced each other none the less.

  
“Mnn...maybe you should lead.” Harry whispered as he watched Viktor and Cedric grab their partner'd waist.

  
“What!?” Ron looked at the others around him and attempted to follow their lead, not having much time to argue as everybody had begun to dance. Ron placed a hand on Harry's side and took Harry's offered hand.

  
“Now just...umm...” Ron kept his eyes on the ground, Harry was surprised as to how well Ron was keeping up with the rhythm of the music. If Harry hasn't known any better he would have thought that Ron had practiced the routine in secret.

  
“I know. I'm rubbish. Didn't know I was going to dance.” Ron admitted shyly.

  
“You're doing well.” Harry's eyes darted around the room. Smiles seemed like laughter. The music softened and all voices could be heard. It was almost like among the twirling the time slowed, Harry saw each and every face; the looks of disapproval, disgust and distaste.

  
“Mate, its alright. Aren't you used to the spot light?” Ron looked up bashful.

  
“Its something you don't really get used to.” Harry smiled. Talking eased the anxiety, if they were to dance until the song ended then they couldn't just ignore the situation.

  
“Yeah, I suppose.” Ron too smiled. Sure things were still awkward but it was becoming bearable. When Dumbledore offered a dance to McGonagall she gratefully accepted. The two took to the floor. Ron and Harry laughed to each other. “This is madness.” Ron chuckled.

  
“You can say that again.” Quickly following was Hagrid and his new 8ft lady love. If anything, the two hardly felt put out, seeing Hagrid dancing at breast height, their situation was hardly one to laugh at now.

  
“Maybe this night won't be so bad.” All couples flooded the dance floor to catch the end of the opening song. Harry felt silly for feeling so anxious everybody was just looking for a good time, everybody was in their own worlds.

  
“I heard that there's going to be a band playing. Fancy staying around to listen?” Ron had felt too proud to do anything tonight but once caught in the action and flow of the evening he felt relaxed and wasn't prepared to sit still.

  
“Yeah, sure. I don't know what wizard music is like.” Harry had never heard a real wizard band, he was only used to the tat on the radio back home and the old tapes Aunt Petunia had.

  
“Harry, you've been missing out. You're such a muggle.” Ron could feel a music rant coming on. He loved wizard music, although similar to muggle music, the word were much more relatable to the wizarding world.

  
“The downside of being raised my muggles.” Harry laughed to himself, he knew that he was lame but he couldn't help it. The music stopped and everyone disbanded.

  
“Well...that was alright. Could have been worse.” Ron admitted. For some reason his smile had disappeared and the awkwardness set in.

  
“Yeah...” The room was sort of quiet and filled with individual chatter whilst the band got set up.

  
“Let's get a good space at the front.” Harry grabbed Ron's arm as Ron bulldozed his way to the front of the hall.

  
“This song goes out to all of the champions in the room!” The guitarist called into the mic. The crowd began to cheer and so the music started.

  
11PM

  
“Join us after we come back, witches go powder your noses, wizards help yourself to the buffet!” For the last two hours Harry and Ron had been dancing, head banging, mastering air guitar and jumping up and down. The night had been live.

  
“I'm so exhausted. Let's go get a drink.” Harry and Ron made their way over to the drinks table where there they both grabbed a glass of non-alcoholic bubbly.

  
“Looks like you guys were having fun.” Hermione came and grabbed herself a glass. She had a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

  
“Oh yeah. Loads.” Harry nudged Ron with his shoulder.

  
“Me and Viktor are going to leave soon, he's quite tired.” Every now and again Ron would catch Hermione dancing and waving her head in the air, looking genuinely happy.

  
“I haven't even thought about leaving yet.” Ron was actually looking forward to the next set, the band and the atmosphere was addictive.

  
“They're going to play some calm songs now, seeing as its late.” Ron and Harry looked at each other and Ron shrugged. “So you're staying? Just promise me you won't stay up too late!” Hermione couldn't help but play mum. Without her careful direction both Ron and Harry would have gotten themselves into a lot of trouble -other than the usual.

  
“Don't worry.” Harry couldn't promise anything. For the first time in a long time he wasn't concerned by anything, nothing was bothering him and his life wasn't in immediate danger. Of course he was going to take advantage of the here and now.

  
“Alright, we'll be going now.” Viktor approached and held out a hand to both Ron and Harry for a formal handshake.

  
“Good night 'mionie.” Ron waved goodbye as the couple left. For once he didn't feel jealous of Viktor, he had been hating the man for a while. Maybe not even Viktor could ruin his good mood.

  
“So...what do you want to do?” The band had entered the stage again. This time they made no announcement but just began to play.

  
“Oh, I know this one.” Ron perked up a little and put his glass down. “Want to dance?”

  
“It's a bit of a slow...romantic song. Are you sure?” Harry squirmed away a little at the thought.

  
“Hardly anybody is here now. But if you're sure...we can sit and listen to it.” Ron stopped before the stage.

  
“No...no. If you want to.” Harry looked around at all of the couples, the familiar feeling of anxiety began to set in as he looked.

  
“You know what, never mind. Let's go, we can go and prank some first years.” Ron knew that Harry wasn't quite up for dancing, it wasn't like they we're dating or anything.

  
“I'm fine, honestly Ron. We'll stay.” Harry smiled nervously. He'd enjoy it- he reassured himslef.

  
“You don't even have to dance just sway a little, maybe move your arms a bit. So you don't look like Snape over there.” Snape had just stood there, alone all night.

  
“I doubt anybody asked him to dance.” Harry didn't want to give it away that he was staring at Snape encase he came over.

  
“That old fart? No chance.” Ron laughed, his laughter was contagious, Harry had caught it. “Tonight has been pretty wicked.”

  
“Bet you wish you could have gone with Hermione.” Harry had noticed how Ron had been behaving at the beginning of the night and during the weeks leading up to the dance.

  
“Well yeah. At first. Kind of glad that I hadn't though. We've had a good time.” Ron smiled. He couldn't explain why he felt the way he did; he was over the moon, filled with a sense of euphoria. It felt a lot like love.

  
“Oh yeah, tonight's been the best.” Harry nodded eagerly.

  
“I'm knackered. Lets go back.” Ron had a sudden urge to hold Harry's hand, but he questioned and suppressed the intention. He bottled it down to having such a good night and being so happy. He could not and would not act on his inclination.

  
“Alright. Lets go.” They made their way through the few couples that remained and Harry grabbed his cloak from one of the chairs at the back. During all of the dancing things heated up and the cloak had to go.

  
“Want to take the long way round?” Ron suggested.

  
“Why? Aren't you tired?” Harry was admittedly starting to get drowsey.

  
“Yeah, just fancy it is all.” Rather than climbing the moving staircase they began to wonder the halls, Ron trailed his fingers along the wall to clear his mind of the obscene thoughts running and bouncing off of the walls.

  
“Tonight was brilliant! So great to see all of the students participating.” Madam Pomfrey's voice could be heard approaching. Ron grabbed Harry by the collar and pulled him around the corner. There was no way that they would escape a detention for roaming around the Castle at night. Harry held his breath and looked up to see Ron's eyes staring back.

  
“Shhh.” Ron raised a finger to his lips. Harry's heart began to thump uncontrollably. He chocked it up to the tension of not getting caught. He began to worry about Ron hearing how loud his heart was beating. Madam Pomfrey and Madam Hooch turned the other corner. “Phew! That was a close one.”

  
“Yeah...” Harry exhaled heavily. What was that -he queried.

  
“Don't really want a detention to ruin things...lets just get going.” Ron looked at the floor, too embarrassed to venture up. Harry much the same but staring blankly in a dazed state. Neither knew what to make of the situation so they both refrained from saying anything at all.

  
When they got to the dorm room Ron kicked off his shoes and hung his cloak on the canopy post. He didn't bother to get undressed, he just threw himself onto the bed. Harry snuck away to the bathroom to undress and brush his teeth for bed.  
Ron lay flat on his stomach and stared at Nevil's empty bed. He sighed. He couldn't make heads or tales of what was going on with himself. Maybe things would be back to normal when he woke up in the morning.  
Harry stared at his reflection in the mirror, his hair had flopped back to its usual mess, his forehead was sweaty and the bags under his eyes were getting even more grey. He ran some cold water and splashed his face. 'Snap out of it' he told himself strictly, his mind kept flicking back to Ron's eyes and his heart would flare up. Once he had gotten dressed and folded his robes he came out.  
Once in bed and tucked away Harry stared at the ceiling, he wasn't sure if he could fall asleep.

“Harry...” Ron opened up. There was a long pause before he shifted and he too stared at the ceiling. “Good night.”

  
“Good night...” Harry turned into his side and folded his duvet over his shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was tossing and turning in his sheets, drenched in sweat as another nightmare took over him. The same cemetery, the same abandoned house opposite the tomb stones. The same elderly caretaker wondering to his death. Wormtail had been there, and two others; one he presumed to be Voldemort in a frail hardly human state. The other he had seen at the Quidditch World Cup but still he knew nothing about him.

  
The scene played the same each time, the caretaker approaches the door, silently. A snake slivers past and enters the room. Wormtail and the unknown man are crowding round a chair. Then before the caretaker could process what was happening, he's killed. A killing curse. Only somebody as foul as Voldemort and his Death Eater followers could have conjured it.

  
“Harry! Wake up.” Everything rewound back to the beginning before the dream slipped away. The only thing left was the sound of the Caretaker boiling his kettle over the stove. “Harry, mate, are you with us?” Ron shook Harry again until Harry's eyes twitched and broke open.

  
“Ron...” Harry looked up to see Ron, Seamus and Dean hovering over him.

  
“Bloody hell Harry. We thought you were having a fit or something.” Ron looked concerned, everyone did. Harry was used to the nightmares but it had seemed that his reaction to the dream had everybody scared.

  
“I'm fine. Honestly Ron.” Ron wasn't quite convinced. He placed a hand on Harry's forehead to check his temperature. Harry was burning up.

  
“Maybe you should stay here today. You're roasting.” Ron took a seat at the end of Harry's bed and proceeded to remove the duvet away from Harry so he could cool down.

  
“No. I'll be alright once I've had a shower.” Ron felt like a mother bird being protective over her children, Harry was the angsty teenager who just wanted to be left alone. Ron wasn't quite having any of it. After last night he'd been feeling overwhelmed with concern for Harry, far more than usual.

  
“Harry...do you want me to get 'Mionie in here?” Ron threatened. Harry's eyes widened, the only thing worse than a helicopter Ron was a helicopter Hermione.

  
“I'm alright Ron, really I am.” Harry stood up and walked past Ron and into the bathroom. Harry had a history of nightmares and he always felt back to normal after a shower.

  
-breakfast

  
“Wasn't yesterday just amazing?” Hermione was still swimming in the thrill of last night. Nobody had seen it but Viktor had given Hermione her first real kiss. She could hardly believe it; her first kiss came from Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Quidditch superstar, and one of the most handsome men on the planet.

  
“I didn't get in till this morning, my and Ginny stayed till the very end.” Neville had came back to the dorm room during the early hours of the morning, humming and dancing with himself merrily until had had gotten into bed.

“Saw you two having fun last night.” Neville nudged Ron with his shoulder.

  
“Well yeah, a bit.” Ron stabbed a sausage with his fork and proceeded to bite it in half.

  
“Do you ever stop eating Ron?” Hermione glared at Ron from across the table.

  
“What? I'm hungry. Come to think of it, we didn't even raid the buffet.” Ron shrugged and took another sausage. Harry shook his head in agreement.

  
“I did say we should eat at one point.” Harry pointed out.

  
“Yeah yeah, but neither of us wanted to stop dancing.” They both laughed at each other playfully.

  
“Wouldn't have wanted to spill anything on your robes, your Aunt Tessy would have killed you.” Harry teased. Ron had forgotten about how embarrassing his robes were after the first dance.

  
“Leave it out!” Harry almost choked on his pumpkin juice but he did manage to spill it down his front. People from the next table over had seen and giggled between themselves. “You're such a dork.”

  
“Look the post.” Neville watched as owls flew in through the hall's entrance. They each began dropping packages in front of their intended. Harry was used to not seeing Hedwig, he didn't have anybody who would send him post- anything sent from Sirius was sent privately. Ron's owl carried letters, much to Ron's appreciation; he didn't want his mother sending him more robes.

  
“We've got a letter from Mum. Ginny.” Ginny watched as her brother took the letter from the owls beak, after it had once again crash landed in a pile of scrambled eggs. Ron could only shake his head, ashamed.

  
“Read it out then.” Ron opened the envelope and unfolded the letter. He swallowed his mouth full of toast and washed it down with a glass of pumpkin juice.

  
“My dears, how was the school dance?” - “Typical Mum...” Ron added. “Ron, I trust that you wore those robes that I sent you? I know that they are quite old but its a Weasley tradition. Funny, I received the paper this morning and saw pictures of you and Harry dancing - you even made the front page! Naturally I put the pictures on the cabinet.”

  
“What? That's great. Seems like you two made front page of the Daily Prophet!” Ginny exclaimed, no wonder everybody around them had stopped to stare.

  
“It's true, look.” Hermione passed down a copy of that morning's paper. “You weren't the only ones, all of the champions were there too.”

  
“I doubt that paper will ever leave Mum's shrine.” Ron could hardly believe it, he had never noticed any reporters, well it wasn't too unlikely that he had missed them when he had his eyes glued to the ground.

  
“Carry on, Ron.” Ginny looked up from the paper to prompt her brother.

  
“And Ron, if you'd of told me that you didn't have a date, I would have fixed you up with somebody.” - Ron trailed off and coughed.

“Nevertheless it looked like you had a great night! I'm glad that you went with Harry rather than not going at all. Ginny, I know that I don't have to worry about you. I know that such a pretty girl like you had no trouble finding a handsome fellow to accompany you. Write to me soon, both of you. I'll see you soon at Christmas.”

  
“Oh, Mum wrote a letter the other week asking if you guys wanted to come for Christmas. You know how Mum is...” Ron folded the letter in his hands and threw it aside, making sure not land it anything.

  
“I can't this Christmas Ron. My family and I are visiting relatives in Cornwall. Make sure that you thank your Mother for her hospitality.” Hermione looked torn, it was obvious that she was already signed up for something but she would have much rather spent Christmas with her friends.

  
“Umm, yeah, sure. Why not? Christmas with your family will actually feel like Christmas. The Dursley's never really welcomed me for Christmas...and I lived there.” Harry had brought down the atmosphere, Ron and Hermione felt guilty even though they had nothing to do with what happenes at that oppressive home on Private Drive.

  
“I'll tell her that you'll come.” Ron nodded to his plate and carried on eating. In order to quickly change the topic Hermione brought her bag onto her lap unzipped it.

  
“I don't suppose either of you has completed Professor Trelawney's homework?” Hermione took her note books out from her satchel and placed them down on the table with a heavy thud.

  
“Of course not. Who do you take me for?” Ron scoffed and stole a piece of toast from Harry's plate. Harry didn't process what had just happened, he just watched his friend steal his food. Usually he'd smack Ron's hand away. Even Hermione had noticed and and frowned suspiciously.

  
“Harry? What about you?” Hermione prompted.

  
“No.” Harry shook his head. Hermione could only roll her eyes, she expected no little from her friends.

  
“At least I won't be the only one. I bet tones of people haven't done it.” Ron had no plan to do his homework, he never did anything that was given. Especially with the ball just last night, he knew that he'd be covered. There would be rows of students with excuses before she even approached them about the essay.

  
“You two are so frustrating. How do you possibly expect to get a good grade?” Ron paid her no attention, she'd been barking up the wrong tree for four years now.

  
“Grades are the last thing on my mind right now Hermione.” When Harry wasn't battling dragons and stuggling to solve the clue in his golden egg, he was dodging the 'Potter stinks' gang. It wasn't like he had all the time in the world and his life was perfectly balanced.

  
“What about you, what have you got to say for yourself?” Hermione quickly moved on. She knew how much stress Harry was under already.

  
“Give it a rest, I didn't want to do it, alright?” Ron had never snapped at Hermione like that before, the table went quiet. Ron carried on eating. Hermione gathered her books back and packed them away.

  
“I'm going to get a head start.” Hermione left breakfast. Harry and Neville watched her walk away without saying a word.

  
"Mwybe we should go too Ron. You know how long it takes to get there." Divinations was at the very top of the North Tower, up a flight of stairs, up a rusty ladder and through a trap door in an overhead floor.

  
"Yeah I suppose." Ron let go of his knife and fork, grabbed his satchel. Ron placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and proceeded forward.

  
-Lesson: Divinations

  
The two boys entered the room through the hatch and looked around for an empty table. It was a wide, semicicular chamber with heavy velvet drapes. Following the curvature of the room were a number of round desks, each with a pair of cushioned stools beside it. Their eyes focused on their usual spots, empty like always. Both boys threw off their bags and flung them under the table before taking a seat.

  
“Don't suppose we'll learn anything today?” Harry asked as he tapped the glass ball that sat centrally on the table. He glared at his reflection in the ball, noticing how dark the bags under his eyes were.

  
“Do we ever? Crackpot, she is.” With his head resting comfortably in his folded arms he proceeded to close his eyes. Processor Trelawney was almost always late to class, despite her office being a meer few feet away.

  
“Psst! Ronald! Sit up.” Hermione leaned over her table and reached down towards Ron. Her harsh tone was brisk and unforgiving. Ron yawned and sat up regardless.

  
“Boys and girls...” The processor opened her office door, a hand reached out towards the students that watched. Even though they had been taught by Trelawney for four years now they were never used to her weirdness, every time they were surprised. “Are we all ready to gaze into our futures?” Professor Trelawney moved towards her desk at the front of the class room.

  
“Aren't we working with tea leaves today, Professor?” Hermione raised her hand but need not wait for confirmation to ask her question.

  
“Right you are Dear girl.” The Professor summoned fourteen tea cups, one for each student. The cups were filled with herbal tea, not hot but warm enough for the tea leaves to infuse and for the students could drink. “Now each of you take a cup!” She gestured for the students to pick up their cups, “Drink it, leave some left at the bottom and try not to disturb the leaves at the bottom.”

  
Everybody took their cups, in all honestly, the tea tasted like crap. Sugar would damage the integrity of the tea and it was damn near impossible to avoid the small shards of tea. It took everybody a while to finish their teas. Ron left a pool in cup, not wanting to finish the rest. Harry could only grimace with each heavy gulp. Professor Trelawney waited and watched for the last of the cups to be placed back into the table.

  
“Pick up your books and exchange your tea cups.” Trelawney pushed her bottle cap spectacles further up her nose with anticipation. Ron and Harry couldn't be bothered and exchanged glasses with each other. “Now use your brilliant and perceptive little minds to analyse the remains in your partner's cup. You may just find something very interesting!” She exclaimed eagerly.

  
“Remind me not to pick this next year.” Ron sat up and grabbed a book. He slid the other towards Harry.

  
“Don't worry, I'm not taking this next year.” Harry reassured as he picked up Ron's cup. Harry squinted, trying to discern a picture or image from the mess of leaves. All he could see was two thick straight lines. Harry could only shake his head, 'no wonder this isn't an exact science’ Harry thought to himself as he opened the book. He looked over at Ron who seemed to be doing something similar.

  
“What kind of mess is this?” Ron whispered to Harry as he couldn't make out the shape in the base of the cup. It looked like many things...all common things.

  
“Why? What does it say? More devistation? Troubles to overcome? Sounds about right.” Harry sighed heavily expecting nothing less than a problematic prediction for telling of a major obsticle. Wouldn't be surprising knowing he had two tasks still to complete in the Tri-Wizard tournament.

  
“No...it just looks like a bunch of floweres, kinda.” Harry frowned suspiciously. Ron just shrugged and continued flick through pages in the handbook. “What about mine?” Ron had been quite confused about things this year and he had to question a lot of his actions. Maybe, despite this being a bunch of hocus pocus, it might provide answers.

  
“I don't know...” Professor Trelawney clapped her hands to draw attention away from the cups and to the front.

  
“I trust you've come up with something! Now let's take some volunteers.” Hermione's hand shot up, immediately exposing Harry and Ron that sat in front. The two boys were trying their best not to be picked and kept their heads down, avoiding eye contact with their Professor. “You two boys at the front, I sense that your predictions are very intriguing.” She walked towards Harry and Ron.

  
“Well...” Ron stuttered as he straightened himself up. “Harry's leaves look kind of like a bunch of floweres...”

  
“Bravo Dear boy! Looks like love may be swimming your way. Watch out, or you might just let it slip away.” It was creepy how Trelawney's eyes focused on Harry's, they refused to withdraw despite Harry's attempts. “What about Mr Weasley here?” Already her gaze was shifting, turning to invade Ron's soul for answers.

  
“I'm not actually sure Professor.” Harry desperately flickered through his book to finding something to report on.

  
“Give me the cup.” Harry handed over the cup. The Professor studied the remains very carefully. “I see something...yes...a secret! It's not wise to keep things from ones friends.” Professor Trelawney tutted and put the cup back onto the table. Ron looked over at Harry and again shrugged his shoulders, he wasn't aware of any secrets.

  
“She must be wrong...me, love?” The only thing Harry could think about was his crush on Cho, he'd never really had a crush before but he knew that Cho wouldn't go for him and so he developed no feelings of love.

  
The lesson ended shortly after, both boys were hung up on their tea readings. Even though they had both publicly agreed that the Professor must have been 'off her rockers', privately they were both trying to de-riddle what it meant by keeping secrets or falling in love. Neither of them fully understood. Hermione approached from behind.

  
“What's up with you two? You've been acting sour since the beginning of class.” Hermione had kept a careful eye on the two as they sat in silence for the remainder of the lesson.

  
“Yeah, I'm fine.” Harry tried to shake off the looming ideas that poped into his head.

  
“You sure don't seem like it. Now I've got Ancient Runes now so I'll see you both at lunch.” Hermione flashed a quick smile before putting her head down and hurrying off to class in the opposite side of the castle.

  
“Do you think that whole love thing could be about Cho? I've seen the way you look at her. It's kind of obvious.” Ron daren't make eye contact. He had wanted to say something for a while now but didn't think it was his place after he and Harry had stopped being friends at the start of the year.

  
“No. No. I mean she's pretty...and kind...but no. It wouldn't happen anyway.” Harry had once dreamt of such things happening but after Cho had begun to date Cedric he knew that he paled in comparison. She'd be much happier in his arms.

  
“Don't doubt yourself mate, you're a great chatch. She'd have to be silly to turn you down. Sure Cedric's tall...and a bloody great wizard...” Ron coughed, realising he wasn't making the situation any better, “Not that you aren't. I just mean.... He decided not to continue with his point.

  
“Me a catch? All I do is get into trouble and beaten up.” Harry was always one to put himself down, the wizarding world all knew of the infamous Harry Potter who had been fortunate to save the day, but Harry couldn't ignore all of his flaws. Not only was he a magnet for the dark forces, he was also marked for death. Those were two of the major dents he could think of.

  
“C'mon Harry you've gott'a give yourself a bit more credit. You're a good lookin' guy, not to mention the fact that you've defeated a Basalisk and out-smated a dragon.” The corner of Harry's lips rose slightly, he hated taking compliments but it felt nice none the less.

  
“I suppose...but what about you? Are you really keeping any secrets?” Harry looked up from the floor and at his friend.

  
“Umm...I can't really think of anything. Then again we all know Trelawney is an old crackpot. Wouldn't be the first time she's got stuff wrong.” It seemed that Ron wasn't even sure that he had any secrets, maybe that was because he wasn't sure about how he was feeling. He'd been a little confused, his feelings towards Hermione kept changing, he was sure that either her or Harry would have caught him up on it by now. Ever since the ball his feelings had changed once again...seeing Hermione in the arms of another man filled him with unjustified anger, but he soon forgot about all of that.

  
“You're probably right.” Harry and Ron had a free period now which meant that they had to sit either in the great hall or the study room and complete homework. “Good thing she didn't ask for the homework, or we would have been scrubbing tea from cups for the next fifty minutes.”

  
“She never asks, its like she knows that nobody's done it.” Ron and Harry laughed together as they made their way to the great hall, that way they'd catch lunch early. The only downside was that Snape was regularly put on patrol.


	3. Chapter 3

Everybody had gathered in the great hall to say goodbye to their friends, there were hugs all round as one way or another they might not be seing each other for two weeks. Ron and Harry had their trunks packed and ready to take back to Ron's for the holidays. They both said goodbye to Hermione and wished her well on her trip to Cornwall. She had told them that she might come towards the end of the holidays after the ritual relative visits. Harry and Ron would take the train back towards London and from there Ron's father- Arthur, would come and pick them up from the train station.

  
This was the first christmas he was spending away from the Dursley's, he was looking forward to being an invited member at the dinner table, sharing the feast Molly would cook up. No doubt a freshly roasted bowl of chestnuts would be waiting for them once they had arrived. Harry had never been fortunate enough to be given chestnuts, he would watch Aunt Petunia make them every Christmas eve; she didn't trust him to cook then to her standards and he never got more than a sniff of their festive goodness.

  
“C'mon then Harry, we'll miss the train.” Harry stood for a moment as he took in the last of Hogwarts before the break. He had always marveled at the excellent decoration, even though everything was completed using magic, it paled in comparison to Aunt Petunia's efforts. “Ginny, Fred and George are already on the platform.” Harry turned and ran up to his friend. The friendly and familiar sight of Harry running towards him with a big grin filled Ron with warmth.

  
“Let's just hope we don't miss the train, the next one is in four hours.” Ron and Harry picked up the pace a little, not wanting to be left behind at christmas.

  
It took a little while to reach the station as the enchanted coaches were all out dropping of students to the station. If only they really knew what was pulling the cart. Once the cart had stopped Ron hopped off and pulled his case to the ground. Harry too hoped to the ground and reached for the trunk.

  
“'ll get it.” Ron helped Harry bring his trunk off of the wagon. He proceeded to wheel both his own and Harry's belongings absentmindedly.

  
“Ron, I can take it from here.” Harry grabbed the handle bar of his trunk, for a moment his and Ron's hands touched. Neither moved for several seconds, acknowledging what had happened. They both just stared at each other.

  
“Right. Here.” Ron let go of the case, not really knowing what had just happened between them. He needn't say anthing, so he turned round and headed for the train platform.

  
“Goin' home for the holidies 'Arry?” Hagrid welcomed the boys onto the platform with a gaping smile.

  
“I'm spending Christmas with Ron, this year, Hagrid.” Ron smiled a little knowing much fun the two of them would have for two weeks. He could imagine, pulling pranks on Ginny and staying up until all hours.

  
“Ah, better off. You'll come 'arf my size. Do you a bitt'a good. Y'know, with all that trainin' you been doin' ay?” Harry loved Hagrid like a rather 'oversized' uncle. When getting off of the train at the beginning of the school year, Hagrid was the first sign of home, the same could be said when waving goodbye as he boarded the train home.

  
“I bet mum's planned to cook loads.” Ron's smile beamed ear to ear, he remembered staying with Harry that christmas First year, the house elves had done a great job of making the feast as festive as home but sitting, staring at Snape's ugly mug over the centre piece turkey didn't quite compare with home.

  
“Now, you two au’t to get a move on now aint ya. Get on with festivities and what not.” Hagrid patted Harry on the shoulder with his large mutton sized paws.

  
“Yeah, come on then Harry. I told Fred and George to save a carriage. See ya later Hagrid.” Ron dumped his suitcase by the instructor who had been waiting rather impatiently for Harry and Ron to board the train.

  
“Have a great Christmas you two, alright?” Hagrin waved as Harry walked away, he too left his case on the platform for it to be stowed away with the rest of the luggage in the very last car of the train.

  
“C'mon.” Ron held out his hand to help Harry onto the train, despite the fact that Harry was more than capable of helping himself. Ron, however, felt the need to assist Harry - that and he didn't want to keep the train from departing any longer than they have already. Ron walked the isle of the train, peering into the small carriage windows in search of his brother. He received some horrid looks from particular carriages and the elder students charmed a curtain over the hole to keep their privacy. Finally, towards the back of the carriage, was Fred peeping his head out of the door watching out for his brother.  
“Finally!” He called, ducking his head back inside.

  
“Sorry, had to say goodbye to 'Mione and Hagrid.” Ron sighed as he relaxed into his seat. He looked up at Harry standing in the doorway. “Sit down mate.” Ron shuffled further over to the widow to let Harry sit.

  
“Anything from the trolley?” A familiar voice approached accompanied by the grinding screech of a broken wheel.

  
“Er, Harry...do you have any...” Ron trailed off, embarrassed to ask his friend about buying him something for the journey home.

  
“Don't worry Ron, anybody else want anything?” Harry dug into his pocked and picked out his change. It was a regular thing, he daren't not bring any. The lady appeared at the doorway with her cart still loaded with sweets and chocolate.

  
“Anything from the trolley Dears?” The examined the room, Harry stood and picked what he wanted from the long list to chose from.

  
“Liquorice wand and some drooballs.” Harry took a handful of wands and a few packets of drooballs, “Cheers mate.”

  
“Don't worry about us Harry.” George shook his head, obviously being polite. His twin brother Fred elbowed George in the ribs playfully before standing.

  
“Speak for yourself! Harry, a Chocolate frog would be the best.” Harry laughed at the twin's display. He had gotten used to the abuse that the two hurl at each other and mischief that they got into on a regular basis. His mind drifted away to watching the two -although drastically old and grey- fighting in the great hall after an aging potion had backfired whilst trying to put themselves forward for the tournament (that in itself was stupid enough).

  
“Thanks.” Harry paid hid debt and the woman left.

  
“You're too kind Harry.” Fred teased.

  
“So? I take it you've worked out what that god awful screech was inside that egg of yours?” George prompted up a conversation to distract fred away from his miniature stash of chocolate for long enough to take one for himself.

  
“If I had, it would be public knowledge by now...I haven't got a clue how to figure it out!” Harry had tried everything he could; cursing at it, heating it up (as if it was a real egg), he'd even asked Flur a few weeks ago to only find that she was sitting in a similar boat.

  
“You told 'Mione that you worked it out weeks ago!” Ron claimed before glaring disappointingly at Harry, he remarkably resembled Hermione's reaction if it'd been her who he'd broken the news to. It was uncanny, they shared the same eyebrow burrow and the same nose krincle.

  
“Well I lied Ron. I couldn't bare her breathing down my neck about it. I've practically done all I can already.” Harry felt as he too was arguing with Hermione, pleading his defence.

  
“Well, you better get a move on. Can't walk into this one blindly. Luckily you knew about the dragons.” Fred ducked as he opened another chocolate frog, this one had more energy than the last three, it leaped out from its box and threw itself against the window. George exchanged a dueling glace with his brother, prompting them both to start fighting to recover the frog for themselves. George had won, seeing as he had the advantage of sitting next to the window.

  
“I'll help, you know...if you want me to.” Ron bit down on his bottom lip knowing that he wouldn't really be able to do much in the way of helping.

  
“I don't want to think about it, I just want to enjoy the holidays.” After that there was no more talk about the tournament for the entirety of the train ride home.

  
~

  
“C'mon Ginny! Mum's waiting.” Ron called out for his sister from the platform. They had gotten off of the express and to find their luggage waiting for them once they'd stepped out. Everybody had grabbed their cases and bags and began to walk away from Ginny as she hugged her friend goodbye.

  
“Alright! Goodness Ron.” Ginny waved as she backed away from her friend. She quickly spun and glared at her brothers for pestering her, and that they hadn't been gentlemen, and picked up her case too.

  
“Dad's left a port key, hurry up before we miss it, will ya?” Fred turned the corner sharply, facing a hair pin left to seem careless on the ground. It was a hair pin that both the twin's knew to be their mother's that they had paired up to buy her for her birthday last year.

  
“Gather round everyone.” George extended his arms every which way gathering everyone around the pin closely before reaching down all at once to touch it. Once every finger had made contact the world slipped away into spirals, the familiar feeling of being sucked into nothing overthrew the youngest. The world began to straighten out as a gaping hole emerged in the ground a few feet from their front door and purged the young wizards -and witch- out onto the ground. Fred and George had become accustomed to the event and learned how to master the upchuck, they gracefully strode through the air and to the ground. However, Ron, Harry and Ginny landed heavily on the grass. On impact Ron's trunk had opened, spilling his; shirts, jeans, jumpers and school equipment all over, papers were caught in the wind.  
“Honestly you lot....tut tut.” Fred laughed as he reached the ground. He reached down to pick up the first of the many clothes that scattered the field.

  
“Just help me will, ya?” Ron stammered to his feet, “You alright Harry?” Ron reached a friendly hand towards Harry. Harry had accepted, seeing as he felt too woosey to manage his own way up right.

  
“Thanks. Let me give you a hand.” Harry began picking up what was thrown around him, with every item came a wince as he bent down. Surly there'd be a large bruise on his backside when he awoke in the morning.

  
“Let me.” Ron scooped up the clothes Harry had gathered into his own arms and proceeded to follow the clothes trail that Harry had begun to follow. “You take Ginny inside.” Fred and George hadn't bothered to help and had already begun to walk over the slight hill towards the house.

  
“She's already gone Ron. Here I'll help you.” Harry began to collect the quills and parchment that had been blown away by the wind.

  
“Its just some parchment mate. Don't worry about it.” Ron stuffed the clothes he'd collected back into his trunk and popped locks back to firmly close it. The last thing he wanted was for his clothes to fall out and land in the pond. “Mum's probably waiting for us with somethin' to eat. I'm starving.”

  
“When are you not?” Harry playfully bumped into Ron with his shoulder. Ron staggered to the right a little before returning the gesture.

  
“Finally! We thought you'd be out there all night chasing down stray parchment.” Molly began to rub both Harry and Ron down, getting rid of the grass and muddy scrapes. “Harry dear, its so wonderful to see you!” Once satisfied with their condition she proceeded to hug them in the doorway.  
“Harry, nice to see you again.” Arthur extended his hand for a handshake. Harry smiled nervously, he wasn't one for formalities.

  
“I've roasted some chestnuts and I've just taken the mince pies out of the oven. Once you've taken your bags up and tidied yourself a bit you can come down for some snacks before super is ready.” Ron didn't need to be told twice, he followed the sent of bakery into the living room. “Ah, ah, not before you've cleaned up! Look at you. Anybody would think you've just taken a mud bath.”

  
“Come on Ron, before we eat them all.” Fred teased as he lifted a piping hot mince pie to his lips, of course he wasn't stupid enough to take a bite but the effect on Ron was still the same. Ron doubled back and headed up the stair case. The wheels on the trunk bashing against each step as he climbed what felt like an endless ladder.

  
“You can put your trunk over there....” Ron looked around the room. It was strange, his mother hadn't set up the spare bed. That wasn't like her at all. “Mum!” Ron called, his head peered over the banister.

  
“Yes dear?” She called back.  
“There's no spare bed. Should we set it up?” Harry stayed put, not wanting to get involved.

  
“Ah, about that.” Ron heard his mother's footsteps climbing the stairs. “We had to throw it away. We got it out this morning to set up for Harry coming of course. Once we had summoned what we needed it had all been covered in damp and mold. Turns out your father hadn't packed it away properly from when Charlie came down to visit.”

  
“Where's Harry supposed to sleep?” Ron didn't like the idea of Harry sleeping on a make-shift bed on the floor.

  
“You can top-and-tail for tonight before we set up something for tomorrow.” Ron looked at Harry and Harry looked back. Both seemed reluctant to share a bed with each other. “Oh boys. It's only for one night. Now get ready to come down. Supper won't be long.” Molly smiled at them both reassuringly before making her way back.

  
“I can't suppose it'll be that bad...” Ron sighed as he threw himself back onto his bed.  
“It's only for one night...” Harry completed, sounding rather unsure.

  
“Yeah, exactly. We're both mates, we can survive just one night.” Ron told himself, by the end of his sentence he was convinced that sharing a bed with his best friend wouldn't be such an unpleasant experience.

  
“Yeah.” Harry was still off, he'd never had to share a bed before.


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner had finished promptly at 8pm, Harry had never been so full. He could finally understand why the twin's were so lanky and why Ron was such a big lad. If Molly would have had to cook the dinner without the aid of magic she would have had to begun peeling the spuds and caramelising the apples from unearthly hours of the morning. Gratefully she had charms placed on the kitchen utensils; in mid air the carrots de-skinned themselves and the pots were busy beeing scrubbed hands-free. Thank goodness for magic.

  
Dinner had been roast chicken, veggies and a selection of which ever pie you fancied. Despite clearing his plate, Harry found himself going back for two helpings of pie; he wasn't the only one, it seemed all of the Weasley family had a large appetite.

  
“So? What'll you two get up to now?” Molly asked as she put the cake dish lid down over the remaining slices of pie.

  
“We can go play a match in the field?” It was very often that they took advantage of the wide open space that surrounded the home. It was perfect for playing quidditch. There were no muggles for miles in every direction which meant that could play carefree.

  
“Oh yeah! C'mon Harry. We'll show these two how its done.” Ron exclaimed. His face lit up at the sound of a friendly match. Despite the fact that he wasn't on the house team he still had a love for the sport. He'd heavily considered joining the team this year but he had deliberately avoided the tryouts because he and Harry hadn't been on good terms.

  
“Why not!” With bellies full, they took off out back where, Molly had summoned the posts from the ground, they rose to a sky high but not nearly as high as the ones back at school. At least if somebody had fallen off of their broom they didn't have as far to fall when hitting the ground. Fred and George both wrestled each other for the 'good' broom from storage. Fred had gotten the upper hand and he walked away, broom-in-hand, smugly.

  
“We don't actually have a snitch so we'll have to take it in turns to defend.” Ginny crooked her smile, knowing that this was her strength. They had all taken to the sky, with Molly watching enthusiastically out of the kitchen window.

  
They'd played for a solid two hours before Molly called them back inside at ten. They all came in begrudgingly but were welcomed with a mug of hot chocolate with a fair few floating marshmallows. Each took a mug and held it between their palms, after all it had been a particularly brisk night.

  
“Here.” Ginny took one of Harry's hands into her own. “I've got warm hands.” Harry felt too awkward to pull his hand out of the grip Ginny had. Harry had known that Ginny had developed feelings towards him, he unfortunately had no reciprocating feelings of his own; Ginny was like a little sister.

  
“I...I'm alright.” Harry muttered.

  
“Looks like Potter's got himself a girlfriend.” Fred had seen the display through the steam rising from his cocoa. He nudged Ron who seemed distracted by the sight of the leftover pie, all of the exercise had increased his appetite.

  
“What?” Ron turned his head to where Fred had hinted. “Oh...” Ginny was holding Harry's hand, such a simple and potentially meaningless act sent a rage of fire through his stomach and to his chest.

  
“Ginny's had the hots for Harry ever since we brought him home from his prison cell of a room two years ago. Amazing that she's kept it in for so long.” George relayed, this information only seemed to fuel the beast growing in Ron's body. Ron had clamped down on the handle of his mug so tightly that his knuckles had turned an unhealthy, bloodless, white.

  
“So? Its just a silly little crush.” Ron spat out bitterly.

  
“Jeez Ron, surely you'd be happy, our little sis and your best mate?” Fred was shocked by Ron's reaction. How had Ron not noticed it before, perhaps it was because she'd been getting close to Neville.

  
“I suppose...” Ron didn't know why it disturbed him, Harry's a great guy; brave, clever, funny and despite having a looming threat attached to his name, he was a catch. And his sister...was his sister; similar to Harry in more ways than he cared to admit. “I'm done. Harry, wanna go play some Wizard's Chess?”

  
“Of course!” Harry slid his hand out from Ginny's, glad to break free of her sweaty palms. He smiled at her nervously as he met Ron by the staircase.

  
Ron hasn't said much for the duration of the game which was very un-nerving. It was only until mid-game that he coughed and raised his head up from the board.

  
“Can I ask something?” Ron refused to make eye contact with Harry, too embarrassed to meet Harry's concerned gaze.

  
“Sure, go ahead.” Ron moved his queen side castle closer to Harry's king, getting ready for his win. There was a long and concentrated pause before Ron looked up again.

  
“Do you...ermm...like my sister?” Harry sighed heavily, he suddently grew worried that Ginny had put Ron up to this. The room became eerily silent.

  
“She's a nice girl but no. Not in that way.” Ron nodded his head, Harry's words were reassuring, the burn in his gut ceased and the ache in his chest had completely disappeared. He could finally breathe and think clearly.

  
“I'm kinda beat. Want to get into bed?” Ron stood up from the floor and stretched his legs and extended his arms into the air until his shoulder cracked, relieving some tension. “I'm gonna get my pajamas on.” Ron opened the draws next to his bed and pulled out a pair of trousers and a shirt.

  
“Yeah, alright. Where should I go?” Harry pulled his trunk out from under Ron's bed and popped the locks.

  
“You just stay, I'll go.” Ron slipped away and into the bathroom across the hallway. There he ran the water in the cold tap until it was icy to the touch. He splashed his face and looked in the mirror, face still dripping. His mind had drifted back to Divinations class a few days before, could Ginny be Harry's predicted new relationship? It made sense, Ginny seemed to be the only girl to show an interest in Harry.

  
Ron grabbed a towel from the boiler cupboard, the warmth was comforting. He dried himself and put the towel back. He dressed rather quickly and left the bathroom. As he approached the bedroom door he had noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Ron peeped in to see if Harry was done getting ready. Harry hadn't been, he had been shirtless. Ron knew how self-conscious Harry was about his body and daren't enter. Ron couldn't see why his friend was so ashamed of himself, sure he had a few scrapes and scars but they were all faint and added to the charisma of Harry. The battle scars told of triumphs, each were stories in their own.

  
Harry had confided in him in their second year, telling him that he'd developed his first pubic hair. They both laughed and Ron had told Harry that he had 'loads' when in fact he hasn't developed any at all (if you count small, barely noticeable blonde hairs). Since then lots of changes had happened, Harry had black fine hairs reaching from his waistband to his belly button but an extremely bald chest. Ron was fairly jealous, even still, the hairs he had were pale brown and in some areas, ginger. He thought of himself as unfortunate.

  
Harry had put on his shirt at this point and so Rom withdrew his focus away from the gap. He gently knocked on the door, “Harry....”

  
“Come in Ron.” Harry sat on the end of Ron's bed waiting to hear about their sleeping arrangement plans.

  
“Oh right...yeah.” Ron came in, he had no plans to tell Harry that he'd spent the last few minutes spying on him. He did however have to think of some way in which they could share Ron's single bed. “Mum said to top-and-tail.”

  
“She did. I didn't know if you wanted to share your bed with me.” Harry felt put out and out of place. He didn't want to impose and have Ron uncomfortable in his own bed.

  
“Don't be silly. It'll be alright.” Ron closed the bedroom window to keep out the cold whilst they were sleeping. “Dibs on top.” Although childish, lightened the mood.

  
“So I'll have to avoid your cheesey feet? Great.” Harry teased grabbing a pillow from the pile of linens Molly had brought up earlier on in the day.

  
“Oi! We both know that it's your feet that smell, not mine!” Ron defensively grabbed his dribble stained pillow from the head of his bed as he watched Harry approach, pillow in hand. Harry struck! Ron threw the pillow in front of his face to block the attacks. Then Harry stopped. Ron lowered his guard and was consequently whacked again. “This ain't fair!” Ron cried.

  
“Come on then Ron. I'll give you a chance.” Harry stopped his advances to let Ron have a chance at a single blow.

  
“Alright.” Ron approached delicately, pillow tucked close, ready to spring.

  
“Too late!” Harry took the opportunity whilst Ron was defenseless to take another swing. This time Ron too went for the objective, he had managed to successfully hit Harry, knocking off his glasses. Ron cheered triumphtriumphantly.

  
“Such a cheat, you know that!” Harry cheated at everything; during chess he'd move his pieces when nobody had been locking and even today during the quidditch match, Harry had conspired with Fred to get one over on George who had been defending.

  
“Am not!” Harry and Ron continued to abuse each other with the feather filled sacks. Feathers were, at this point, falling from the pillows with each smack.

  
“Are too! Don't even try and deny it, I've seen you cheat!” Ron landed a heavy hit on the top of Harry's head. The blow caused the victim to fall dizzy, Harry took a time out and sat down on Ron's bed. “Sorry. Didn't mean to hit you that hard.” Ron dropped his pillow and sat bedside Harry.

  
“I'm fine Ron, really. You on the other hand...” Harry titled his head slyly and brought his pillow up, landing it flat on Ron's face. Ron toppled backwards onto his back, he was exposed! The only thing he thought to do was grab Harry by the waist and bring him down to his level.

  
“That's enough please!” Harry continued with the hits as Ron brought him down. “Please!” Harry took one final hit before he dropped the pillow off of the side of the bed, onto the floor. The two were gazing into each other's eyes unknowingly.

  
“Ron...” Harry couldn't take his eyes off of Ron's. It was like his eyes were glued in place. He'd never noticed the slight change in colour in Ron's right eye and how long his eyelashes were. This couldn't be a normal friendship connection and Harry knew it.

  
“Yeah?” Ron took a deep breath, his heart began to pound against the walls of its chest, any moment it was going to burst free in a comic book fashion.

  
“Do you like Hermione?” Harry blurted out. Ron closed his eyes and turned away from the soul searching exchange. He looked up at the ceiling.

  
“Well...yeah...a bit. Not sure really.” Ron was conflicted, he had been sure at the start of the year, that he was in love with Hermione. But the familiar twinge in his heart when he saw her smile wasn't there anymore. Did that mean that he'd lost all feelings for Hermione? He didn't have any answers because he'd never loved anybody before.

  
“I thought so. Hermione's a great girl. Why haven't you made any moves yet?” Harry had been able to see how Ron's behavior was different this year, he was more awkward around Hermione than he had been before and Ron seemed to get very jealous.

  
“Nah, she doesn't like me.” Ron scratched his forehead, the idea of Hermione didn't bother him. Hermione was a clever and pretty girl who deserved more than himself. Ron knew that and so didn't act on his feelings.

  
“I don't know about that Ron. Why wouldn't she go for you?” When Hermione had sided with Ron during their feud before the tournament began, Harry knew something was up. Hermione definitely had feelings for Ron. Now? He didn't know seeing as she was dating Viktor Krum.

  
“C'mon Harry. I'm no Viktor.” Ron expressed Viktor's name sarcastically. He hated Viktor, he was the model of what Ron wanted to be.  
“Yeah, your head's not a block of cheese.” Ron and Harry exchanged a small laugh as they both acknowledged that even Ron had more brains than Viktor Bloody Krum.

  
“I guess. Let's get under the blanket.” Ron reached over and grabbed Harry's pillow up from the floor and dusted it down a little before handing it over to Harry.

  
“Thanks.” Harry put it at the foot of the bed and took his side of of bed. Ron's feet were dangerously close to Harry's head but he knew that during the night he'd turn and face the other way. He didn't mind the arrangement all that badly.

  
“Night Harry.” Ron yawned and slid a hand under his pillow.

  
“Night Ron.” Harry tucked his glasses under the bed and threw his head back down onto his pillow. The night had been one to remember, he'd definitely want to come back next Christmas -if he could.


	5. Chapter 5

Both stood in the shed; Molly had given the boys a few chores to do before they could settle down for the evening, 'nothing comes free' she told them both. Reluctantly they did as they were told, with a broom and cloth it was off to the shed they went. Ron had the task of sweeping the floor and Harry was to wipe down the work benches, shelves and terracotta pots. The two were told not to make another appearance until the shed was spotless! That, would take a while, maybe even the whole afternoon.

  
“Bet you regret comin now?” Ron stood in the doorway to the shed. It was an absolute mess! It was like the small room had never been cleaned, despite having cleaned it in September before returning back to school.

  
“No. Its alright Ron.” Harry was used to doing chores and housework. It was rare if a day went by at the Dursley's where he didn't have to get his hands dirty. “Rather this than Christmas shopping...” with Ginny.

  
“Oh yeah, I suppose so.” Back and forth, bring dirty and mud towards a small (but growing) pile on the floor. Although it felt much like a wasted effort, the spot just brushed clean still seemed grotty. It was like some sort of joke Fred had placed to frustrate them into madness.

  
“I still need to go sometime soon. Need to buy Hermione a present and your mum.” Harry picked up a small pot and shook it, it made no sound. When he tipped it over three snails fell out, one rolled off of the bench and onto the floor. Harry wouldn't be very surprised if most of these pots cluttering the shed were actually snail and slug infested hotels.

  
“Well...tomorrow's Christmas eve. Shops'll be packed.” Ron was usually dragged along with his mother to shop but she had decided to be lenient this year and let the boys stay home for a 'girly day'.

  
“I know. I shouldn't have left it so late. The only way I'd get out of the castle was if I was going to sneak out.” Harry had never been able to squeeze permission from the Dursleys or Professor McGonnagall.

  
“I'll go with you tomorrow...ermm...maybe we could go halves on something for ‘Mione?” Ron asked bashfully. “She's a bloody nuisance to shop for.” Ron rested the broom against the work bench and stretched out. Standing hunched over was killing his back.

  
“Deal. I bet you'll do a lot better than me.” Harry teased, knowing of Ron's infection with Hermione.

  
“Doubt it.” Harry turned sharply and tripped on the head of the broom. The pothe held fell to the floor and smashed on impact. Ron, standing a few feet away caught Harry from sharing a similar fate as the pot, avoiding a cold and harsh drop on the concrete slab floor.

  
Harry had instantly closed his eyes tight and held out his arms bracing for the impact. Instead he fell into Ron's arms. He daren't open his eyes as the feeling of falling still gripped him. The broom hit the ground and Harry jumped in fright. His eyes flew open, meeting a concerned pair of pale brown eyes.

  
“Blimey Harry! You alright?” Ron still held Harry as he made no attempt to independently stand. Ron shook Harry a little as he figured the boy was stuck in a fright induced trance.

  
“Yeah...I think so...” Harry wasn't sure whether his heart was beating so fast due to his ‘fight-or-flight’ reaction, he didn't feel scared anymore yet his heart was showing no signs of stabilising. His eyes were still fixed in place.

  
“Bloody hell. Didn't you see the broom?” Ron quizzed, he looked apologetic. His own negligence could have gotten Harry hurt. He kicked himself for being careless, he should have known that the shed was too small.

  
“I...I...” Harry stuttered.

  
“Sorry, it was my fault...I...err...didn't notice.” Ron couldn't help but acknowledge Harry's unpained gaze. Why was Harry looking at him in that way? Was it that his friend was still in shock? Still; Harry's eyes glistened, it was a sight rare to see.

  
“It was me, being clumsy.” Harry removed a hand that had wrapped around Ron's neck. He moved his hand away, it was still shaking. Harry was a clumsy child, he always had been. He'd fallen trying to maneuver through the stalls in the potions classroom and Harry had been scolded by Professor Snape for being stuck in the clouds much like his father.

  
“Wanna go inside and take a break?” Ron began to pull Harry up off of the ground with the intent of taking him back to the house for some water and a snack.

  
“Yeah...yeah.” Harry nodded his head and allowed Ron to assist him to his feet. Harry stood wearily, his legs felt like jelly, one leg buckled and Harry gave way to the weight of his body.

  
“Woah.” Ron gripped Harry tighter and pulled him upwards. The boys were face-to-face, so close that the warmth of Harry's minty breath rustled Ron's bangs. There was a sudden heat behind the moment, as if by instinct Harry shut his eyes impending what he thought was coming next; a kiss.  
Ron stared at Harry, he was slightly unsure as to what Harry had been expecting, he was rather dense. Still, Ron felt tempted to lean in. It wasn't as he'd pictured, when he'd drifted off in potions it was always Hermione's face before him. Although it wasn't Hermione's soft lips perched in front of him, he didn't draw back or shake the boy into realisation. Instead he succumbed to the situation and his own curiosity.

  
Harry felt a pair of lips firmly press against his own. He quickly drew in a breath, surprised that it had actually happened. Harry was pleasantly relished in the softness of Ron's lips, never had he seen him apply lip balm. Harry slowly opened his eyes, expecting Ron to look utterly repulsed by their act, this was not what he had seen. Ron had his eyes closed and his forehead seemed relaxed.

  
What could this possibly mean? Harry had always assumed that Ron was completely anti-homosexuality given his pure blood nature. What did this mean for their friendship? Had Harry fallen for Ron without knowing it, or was he caught in the moment?  
Then there was an awkward moment when Ron's eyes opened too. Whilst the moment had faded, the two had still been lock liped.

  
“Errmmm...” Ron pulled away, his lips folded in on themselves as he had come to the realisation of what he'd done. “I'm sorry...” Ron had been immediately apologetic, like he'd imposed and enunciated the kiss.

  
“No...”  
................

  
“No....” Harry murmured, deep in a trance like sleep.

  
“Harry!” Ron shook Harry. The boy had been deep in a dream, Ron was used to Harry muttering in his sleep. Harry had nightmares regularly at school, he would soon snap out of it. Harry was already coming to, a beam of sweat broke free from the roots of his hair.

  
“Ron.” Ron was the first and only thing on Harry's mind as he awoke. Harry raised a hand to his left eye and began to rub the crust out. A friendly hand approached giving him his glasses from the night stand. Harry gratefully received and put them on. His vision was still blurred having just woken up although he did recognise the mop of ginger hair.

  
“You alright? You've been making noises, talkin and that.” The sun had already risen and Ron appeared dressed, although slightly messy still.

  
“You let me sleep?” Ron nodded slightly. Harry sat himself up in bed and yawned deeply. He could remember, clear as day, he and Ron had kissed - in a dream? It had felt so real, Harry was disappointed that it hasn't been real. At least now nothing had changed and nothing was different. He hated change.

  
“Looked like you needed it. What was this one about?” Ron threw on a jumper.

  
“Ermm...it was...” Harry debated with himself whether he should tell Ron about his dream. Would Ron hate him for it, or avoid him? Would Ron be happy with what went on or call him a freak? It is that Ron would just laugh and drag him down for breakfast? Harry didn't know where he stood, he didn't want to ruin the balance he and Ron had acquired after their falling out earlier on in the year, “I don't remember.” Harry lied. It had felt bad to lie to Ron but in time, once he'd figured out what the dream meant then he would reveal what really happened.

  
“Mum says breakfast is ready, I came up to get ya. We're goin Christmas shopping so we got to get there early.” Ron hated Christmas shopping, even more so with Ginny and his mother. It would only mean that they would be dragged to every store in Diagon Alley, looking for anything and everything possible. No doubt Molly had an endless list of things to buy reaching the floor.

  
“Yeah? Great. I'm already kinda hungry. Want to go halves on something for Hermione?” Harry had reflected on the dream. Ron was probably going to ask anyway so it was better to cut to the chase.

  
“She's a bloody nuisance to shop for.” Ron smiled, he had a horrible track record of bad gifts and Hermione had strictly told him; nothing alive and no gag gifts.

  
“Yeah I know. I'll have to get some money from Gringots first. I can tell that she won't settle for just anything, now we have to compete with Krum's gift.” Krum had a pretty deep pocket and Hermione wouldn't settle if he and Ron cheaped out especially if they were sharing the blame.

  
“Blimey, he could buy her a golden egg or an enchanted necklace. We betta make it good.” He and Hermione had been drifting since the dance, he didn't want to drift away from a friend so it would have to be a pretty good gift to restore what had started to weaken.  
“I doubt Krum's the golden egg kind of guy.” Harry teased as he flung open the blanket and swung his legs round the bed.

  
“No. No you're right! I can't take her ear chewing if we screw this up.” Hermione had moaned every day for a whole month when Ron had brought her a jar of newts tails after she'd expressed her love for potions. Yes he was a bit of a dunderhead, but it was a present he'd brought earnestly.

  
“For sure. Will she mind if I come down like this?” Harry gestured to his very wrinkled shirt and his bare feet. It was very obvious that he'd just gotten out of bed.

  
“Just put on a jumper and wash your...face...you've got a bit of...ermm...” Ron pointed to the side of his own mouth to bring Harry's attention to the patch of skin covered in dry drool. Harry never dribbled.

  
“Great, could have told me sooner.” Harry frantically rubbed the spot with his fingers. Ron couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

  
“Rather I saw it than Fred. I'll be downstairs.” Ron slipped on his slippers that waited next to his wardrobe beside the doorway. The floorboards were always cold in the morning until the fire heated things up. “It's a bit chilly, bring something.” Ron placed his hands in his pockets and left the room. Ron had barely got to the bottom before he heard Harry's footsteps coming. It sent a smile across his face. Ron too had a secret that he hasn't shared with Harry. Turns out Harry had been a little more vocal than Ron let on. Harry had been calling his name all night, it been weird at first and it'd woken him up. He had then seen Harry puckering his lips. Although he didn't really know what Harry was dreaming about he had gotten the impression that was about him, and possibly it wasn't a nightmare at all. He'd never tell Harry what he had heard or seen but for some reason the idea made Ron giddy.

  
“Harry, there you are my dear! I almost thought you were going to miss breakfast. I'm sure that Ron has told you that we're going out today...unless you and Ron want to stay and clear out the shed?” Harry's eyes widened, he had begun to worry that his dream would come true. Harry shook his head frantically. “Thought not, Ron was the same. No matter, us girls could use a hand today anyway.” Harry took his seat next to Ron at the table.

  
“Harry, I've got a question.” Arthur sat at the head of the table waiting for breakfast to be served. Harry simply nodded his head enthusiastically knowing that Arthur's question would be bizzar and hard to answer, “what do you suppose I buy muggle for Christmas?”

  
“Umm, well. I don't know exactly. Who's it for?” Harry acted vaguely interested.

  
“The head of the muggle department who works in the ministry. He's taken a fair interest in my work this year.” Arthur spoke proudly, his involvement with Hogwarts affairs and ministry raids this past year had gained him a lot of credit.

  
“Oh, right. Well muggles usually buy each other puzzles and games. I think, Dudley always got what he wanted for Christmas.” Harry could remember waking up on Christmas morning and watching Dudley open his presents, usually there would be twenty or more under the tree. He'd never appreciate what was given to him, he'd throw most things away, Harry wasn't allowed to have them even if Dudley didn't want them.

  
“Ah, right! I think I can manage that much. There's a new muggle shop that's opened in Hogsmead.” Molly walked over with a frying pan filled with scrambled eggs.

  
“Leave the boy alone Arthur. Now who wants some eggs?” Everybody's hands filled the air and Molly began scraping the pan. She didn't leave any for herself being the honorable woman she was. “Bacon?” Out came a second frying pan. Molly placed the used one in the sink where scrubbing brushes took to work. “I've got one piece left.” after everybody had taken a piece there was only one slice left.

  
“You have it Harry. Go on.” Before Harry could protest Molly slid the piece off of the pan and onto his plate. Ron smiled heartily.

  
“Really Ron, I've got enough.” Harry didn't want it, he wanted Ron to have it.

  
“Its alright Harry, just take it.” Ron stabbed a sausage with his fork and lifted it to his mouth, he took a large bite and bit the sack of meat in half. Harry had seen Ron shove an entire sausage in his mouth before when he'd been dared by Seamus. It was nice to know that Ron was looking out for him, even if it was just a slice of bacon.

  
...........

  
They'd arrived in Diagon Alley via flu powder shortly after breakfast. As usual the streets were packed, witches and wizards, goblins and elfs alike; pushing and shoving each other to get the last item in stock/on sale. It was going to be a long and stressful day that's for sure.

  
“Now we'll meet you back at this spot at three? No later!” Out came a chorus of 'yes'es as everybody just wanted to break away and begin doing their own thing. Ron and Harry wondered off towards the bank, Harry had to get some money out, Ron had a rustling pocket which held the savings he'd collected for the last few months.

  
“So what'd you think she'd want?” Ron stared at the shops they'd passed, there were shops for clothes, magical items, potions ingredients, a pet store and a book shop. The only thing that screamed ‘Hermione’ was of course the book shop.

  
“Clothes, maybe? Girls like clothes.” Not that Harry knew that. His uncle would buy his aunt a new blouse for her birthday each year but to be honest, Hermione didn't seem much like a 'fashionista'. Perhaps this would be a lot harder than he had thought?

  
“Ginny does, don't think they have the same tastes though.” The doors to the bank opened as they approached, it didn't seem much different to the muggle invention of automatic doors but Harry was still always impressed. Muggles and Wizards weren't too different; one uses science and technology, the other magic.

  
“Wouldn't suppose so. Maybe we should ask her for some advise?” At least that way Ginny would get the blame if Hermione still didn't like her gift.

  
“What is Mr Potter enquiring about today?” The goblin need not look up from his paper work to acknowledge Harry. Harry found the goblin's self entitlement quite rude. Then again, the goblin bankers didn't really appear all too alien in comparison to British bankers, it must have been something about the profession that got to a person's head.

  
“I'm here to withdraw some money from my vault.” Harry put simply, goblins cared not for the intentions, they'd rather see a person and renjoy watching them leave. Goblins aren't the friendliest of folk; Hagrid had told him upon his first visit to Gringots.

  
“Does Mr Potter have his key?” Finally the goblin looked up from his paper work, with one eyebrow raised.

  
“Yes.” Harry took the key from his back pocket and presented it to the goblin. Before Harry could continue he was interrupted; “And his wand?” The goblin contiued. Thr lack of trust wasn't all too surprising because of the vast amounts of wealthy and high profile clients Gringots had.

  
“Here.” With a sigh, Harry pulled out his wand and gave that to the goblin also. The goblin received it and with a careful sense inspected it. Only once he was sure that the want and by extension Harry himself wasn't fake he nodded and have Harry back the wand.

  
“Follow me please.” Harry and Ron followed as the goblin lead the way, key in hand. They had taken the carriage through the bank, following a path of twists and turns used to ensure that even the brightest witch or wizard were unable to remember their journey. Once they had gotten off of the carriage they walked towards the vault. “This way please, keep up.” Ron, who had been rather sluggish, picked up his pace. Once the key was in the lock the enchantments on the door dissapated which allowed them to enter.

  
“Woah, bloody hell Harry. You didn't tell me you had this much?” Ron had never seen so much money, it was piled high in tall but slim columns. He figured that it'd take years to count it all by hand. The way each and every coin glistened was mesmerising. Although he hadn't much care for money, seeing as he had never really had much of it, the sight was hope inspiring; if he worked harder and became somebody important he could live luxuriously.

  
“In all honesty Ron, it's not really important. Its enough to buy a house once I finish school and maybe start my own business.” Harry knew that becoming an Auror would be a lot of work and required a significantly more skilled individual than he'd ever be. So he'd been thinking about perhaps opening up a store or offering a service instead. Although...he wasn't really good at potions and didn't know a thing about herbology but he knew that he would take to something.

  
“Yeah? That'd be pretty great. How much do you think we need?” Ron hadn't worked out as far as what subjects he would want to study next year. If he and Harry were to be friends forever then perhaps he could become co-partner. Ron liked that idea, being with Harry in fifty, sixty, one hundred years from now.

  
“Not much...50 galleons?” Ron scuffed his feet on the floor, feeling slightly embarrassed, “20?” Harry had noticed and remembered that he and Ron were going halves so Ron probably didn't have that much.

  
“Yeah thats enough. Its only Christmas for Merlin's sake.” Harry picked up a handful of coins and put them into a small purse. Once they were done the vault was locked and the three of them were back on the carriage.

  
“Thanks.” Harry took the key back from the goblin and he and Ron left the bank. “Right, where do we begin?” Being at the center of the street, they could see the long stretch of stores laid out in front of them.

  
“Ermm, there's a shop over here?” Ron pointed to the first boutique just across the road. In the window were mannequins advertising dresses and cloaks for what looked like formal occasions. However, not knowing what to get they really had to visit any store until they found something - or bumped into Ginny.

  
“Yeah, sure.” He and Ron entered the store, they both looked lost and hopeless. Where would they begin? Luckily a perky blonde came rushing over to assist them.

  
“Can I help you two boys? Well shut my mouth if it ain't Harry Potter!” The woman haf had a heavy Texan accent, her eyes seemed to light up as she saw the scar on Harry's forehead. “You know, I've been readin about you in the papers, awful dangerous thing of you to do.” She tutted and waved her indext finger disapprovingly.

  
“You're not the first to think so.” Harry had to ignore the blonde, he'd had enough of being blamed for being reckless when he knew that it was not him who had entered the competition.

  
“The name's Wanda. Now I don't suppose either of you two wondered in lookin for a dress? Who's it for?” Wanda shook both boy's hands eagerly and took a step back into the middle of the shop floor.

  
“A friend. We don't really know what to buy.” Ron looked around the room, surely the store was way out of their price range but it was already too late to back away.

  
“Ahh, I see! Well...” She slipped away briefly to return with a dress on a hanger. “This has been very popular this year!” Both Ron and Harry looked vacantly at each other. The dress was pretty but the two of them had no idea whether Hermione would like it. “You two are downright useless. You can't just get your friend anything! Tell me a bit about her, get the feel.”

  
“Well...errmm. She's got long curly hair.” Ron began, he looked over at Harry for some assistance.

  
“Brown eyes. She likes to read a lot.” Wanda nodded and 'ummed' as she created a visual of what Hermione might look like and she may dress despite Harry and Ron's poor portrayal of Hermione.

  
“I see. Something a lil sophisticated? Gottcha.” Like before she scurried off.

  
“Harry, you never told me what you wanted for Christmas.” Ron had been trying to muster the courage to ask for a while now but didn't want Harry to turn away the offer of a present. Usually Ron would never ask, his mother usually made Harry something and Ron would take partial credit for it. Yet that didn't really sit well with him this year.

  
“Nothing. I don't want anything.” Harry never wanted anything, it was probably because he didn't want to be a burden on Ron or Hermione.

  
“Oh right. But there must be something? For mum's sake. She's going mental.” Ron lied. He wanted to surprise Harry with something, something that would make him really happy.  
“She doesn't usually buy me anything. Tell her a jumper or a scarf will be fine.” Harry shrugged it off, he wouldn't want Molly to buy him a gift. Homemade gifts were special and had more sentimental value.

  
“Only if you're sure.” Ron was still adamant on buying Harry his own gift, no matter what. The truth was; Ron had pestered both Fred and George for some extra money whilst Harry was still fast asleep this morning, just to buy a present. He had only managed to squeeze them both for eight galleons but he knew that he could find something.

  
“Here I am!” The woman returned with something new. “I also spoke to my manager and he told me that; for you I can give you a discount. Half price for our savior and as support for the competition!” Harry and Ron smiled at each other with delight.

  
“Wicked.” Ron exclaimed.

  
“So how'd you like the dress? Its made of satin, very soft.” Harry felt the fabric between his fingers and nodded in agreement. “It's not revealing and its quite fashionable. You always see witches today dressing like they're stuck in the eighteen hundreds. Absurd I tell ya.”

  
“How much is it?” Whilst the dress was lovely, the two didn't have much money between them.

  
“For you, thirty five galleons!” What a steal, the two had just enough, with some to spare. What a coincidence that the first store they enter is the last? The two couldn't believe what they were getting for their money, it was a highly beautiful and a very well made dress and only for thirty five.

  
“We'll take it!” Harry enthusiastically grabbed the purse from his pocket, “Ron.” Ron too dug into his pocket to pull out his loose coins.

  
“Great, I'll put it in a box for ya.” Wanda folded the dress and placed it in a pink box, with a finishing touch she wrapped the box shut with a bow and signed the top of the box with the company's logo with her wand. Ron and Harry gave over their money. “I'd love to see your friend in the dress. If you could take a picture, we can put it in our pamphlet.” Wanda smiled as she gave over the box.

  
“I'm sure she won't mind.” Thet two of them agreed before making an exit.

  
“Think she'll like it?” Ron didn't want to make another mistake and disappoint Hermione, or he'd never hear the end of it.

  
“Oh yeah, I know she will. If she doesn't we can take it back.” Harry reassured.

  
“How about getting somethin to eat? I have some left over.” Ron tapped his pocket to show Harry that he still had a little left to stop and get something to eat or drink.

  
“Some hot chocolate? I'm freezing, my lips have gone frozen.” Harry pulled at his lip a little to stress his point. Both the top and bottom lip had started to go blue from the below freezing temperatures outside.

  
“Sure mate. I need to buy something for mum. I won't take long. I'll meet you at the ice cream place in 15 minutes.” Ron and Harry had many happy memories at Fortescue's ice cream parlor, during the winter they sold hot butter beers and cocoa for the same price as some ice cream.

  
“I could come with you. You're terrible at picking gifts.” Harry shoved his hands in his coat pocket, even with gloves on he couldn't keep his hands warm.

  
“I know but I wanna pick it myslef, so its special an all.” Ron cocked a smile, in reality he knew that this was going to be very difficult but he had to at least look around.

  
“Yeah, no problem. I'll meet you there.” The two walked away from each other in opposite directions. Whilst Harry did find this a little suspicious he gave Ron the benefit of the doubt and continued walking. Ron, on the other had was starting to panic, he was usually very calm but he had no idea what he would buy for Harry.

  
Fred and George had given him a few ideas but he didn't really think Harry would like a hair colour potion that changes with a person's mood nor would he like some broom freshener. It was a tough one. Harry wasn't into books, and getting him a magical pet didn't seem like a good or cheap idea.  
Ron turned the corner and walked into Twilfitt and Tatting's, the magical clothing store, having deliberately walking past the joke shop. Ron had no clue, he walked in and began rustling through shelves of shirts and trousers. There wasn't anything that really stood out. Center floor had winter accessories such as scarves and gloves, ron picked up a scarf and immediately put it back down knowing that his mother had knitted Harry a scarf already.

  
Harry was a simple lad which made this experience unbarable; if Harry was a particular person then Ron would know exactly what to buy, but Harry was easy going and didn't really care much for gifts. Would Harry like a jumper? No, probably not. He already had a fair few jumpers. Would Harry like a hat? Ron shook his head, Harry doesn't wear hats.

  
“Maybe I should go somewhere else...” He muttered under his breath. Feeling defeated, he headed for the door.

  
“Young man! Were you looking for something?” As Ron pulled open the door a bell rang much like when he had entered which prompted an old and frail man to come out from the backroom. He had only peeped his head round the corner to peek Ron's interest.

  
“I'm lookin for somethin for a friend.” Ron closed the door and came back into the shop. Perhaps the old wizard could be of some assistance.

  
“A special friend?” The old man studied Ron's face and squinted intensely. There wasn't much that got passed the older generation of Wizards that was for sure. Ron wondered how to answer; sure Harry was special -they were best friends- but the extent of how far Ron thought Harry was 'special' was something perplexing his mind.

  
“Yeah...I suppose.” Ron tucked his hands into his trouser pockets anxiously.

  
“I'm sure we can find something, if he's special enough to you, it shouldn't be too difficult.” Ron winced a little, it felt weird to have heard it from another's lips. Fred and George had teased him earlier that day when he had asked for some spare change, making fun of the way he'd acted when he'd seen Harry and Ginny holding hands. Even then he knew that they were only joking saying that he'd had a secret crush. It was ridiculous. “I've just got in a box of self zipping jackets?” The elderly wizard pointed to a rack close to the counter.

  
“No...” Ron shook his head a little.

  
“Right, well how about a pair of 'all size trousers’?” Harry was petite and didn't really need jeans to alter to his size. Harry hadn't really grown much since the first time they'd met. It was going to have to be another,  
“No.”

  
“I trust you've seen our winter collection? Water proof goat skin ear muffs? Very popular this year, what with all the snow.” Ron shook his head again, he didn't really think Harry would wear something made from the skin of a goat anyway. “Mnn, never mind. What about some gloves? They're charmed to heat themselves you know.” Ron was about to shake his head again, out of habit before he stoped to process what the old man had said.

  
“I think he'd like those.” Harry always had cold hands, it was weird actually. It was like the boy couldn't retain his own heat, not only was Harry's hands always frozen but his feet too. Sharing a bed last night was torture, Harry would squirm and his ice toes would brush against Ron's arm and it'd wake him up.

  
“I use a pair myself, at my age, I can never seem to get warm. Its a very wise choice.” Ron picked up a pair from the hamper and felt the material. As soon as he held the gloves in his had he noticed the immediate change in heat, they were incredibly warm.  
This would get Ginny to leave Harry alone. The fire of jealously rose again, he replayed the moment in his mind again when Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and gazed into his eyes. Its only a silly little crush Ron spat. He knew his sister would get over Harry, what with Nevil wrapped around her little finger, what was the need for Harry?

  
“That'll be four three galleons, for your special someone. Usually I'd sell them for six, but I'm sure your 'friend' will love his gift.” Ron dug the change out of his pocket and picked at it, pulling out three galleons from all of the coins he had.

  
“Cheers. I would have been lookin for hours if you hadn't showed up.” Ron was sure of that fact, he was useless at picking anything, even if he had fosomething by himself he would have regretted it.

  
“Welcome, my boy. I could wrap it if you like?” Ron was also extremely terrible at wrapping gifts, whilst he would have been able to accurately disguise the present by making it appear oblong and irregular, he would be better off wrapping it now to avoid Harry seeing them.

  
“Yes please. Its kind of a surprise.” Ron felt proud, he'd managed to get Harry something that he'd like. He could imagine seeing Harry's face when he opened the wrapping, although small and rather insignificant, Harry always appreciated and cherished the gifts he'd ever been given.

  
“Here you go. Now don't damage the wrappings.” The old man pointed a grey and bony finger in Ron's direction as Ron dangled the gift by the strings. Ron immediately held it properly to avoid being scolded.

  
“Thanks.” Ron left the store with a stride in his step, off to meet Harry for a hot drink on this cold and crisp afternoon.

  
.........

  
Ron snuck up behind Harry as Harry sat at a table, he'd put his feet on Ron's chair to keep it from being taken or to prevent somebody sitting next to him whilst he waited for Ron to return.

  
“Boo.” Ron placed a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder, Harry jumped being slightly startled. He whipped around to see who it was.

  
“Ron, what did you get?” Harry gestured to the box as he watched Ron take his seat. Ron paused for a moment before answering.

  
“Ermm, just some new...needles and yarn.” Ron smiled, having pulled off the lie. Harry nodded slightly knowing that Ron would have probably brought something along those lines seeing that their mother seemed to knit quite vigorously especially during the school term when nobody but the cat was at home.

  
“I've ordered the drinks. I know how you like two sugars in your cocoa.” Once they had drunk their drinks, rather slowly, it was time to meet back at the rendezvous point. Although they had plenty to do at home, they still reluctantly left their seats and trotted towards where they would take the flu network back home.

  
Once they had gotten home, Ron snuck the gift under his bed so that it would be protected from prying eyes, for the morning was Christmas day.


	6. Chapter 6

“Get your fingers out of there Ronald Weasley! How many times do I need to ask?” Molly had caught Ron scooping the syrup from the tin with his fingers and sneaking the sticky, sweet, golden gloop into his mouth. If it weren't for the double dipping, Molly wouldn't have so much of a problem. Ron had been roped into making ginger bread men. It was a traditional thing to do on Christmas eve so that the family could wake up to goodies and treats. “Fold it like I showed you.” Molly hovered over her son’s shoulder impatiently.

  
“I got it mum.” Ron reassured his mother. Her lack of trust was understandable seeing that Ron’s poor effort meant that the mix had sloshed onto the kitchen work surface. Molly cringed at her son's mistakes.

  
“Clearly!” She whacked Ron with her towel playfully on his bottom before tutting, “remember to refrigerate them before placing them in the oven.” It was a known fact that by doing so the ginger bread men wouldn't lose their shapes. Nobody wanted to ever eat oddly shaped men so Molly had to perfect her recipe. Ron shook his head and sighed as he continued to add the brown sugar. Molly had drifted off into the other room to watch the others hang decorations. She watched from the doorway.

  
Fred and George were hanging out some bunting across the curtain rail seeing as nobody else was tall enough for the job. Percy was making the table, putting out the fancy cutlery and china, along with the freshly pressed crisp white table cloth. It was beginning to seem a lot like Christmas. Molly followed her path across the room, she stopped to watch Harry and Ginny work. The two were placing the decorations on the tree. Molly had long noticed the gleam in her daughter's eyes when she was around Harry. A mother knows, Ginny had a crush on Harry, that much was obvious.

  
“Does Harry have a girlfriend?” Molly asked, nonchalantly, strolling back into the kitchen. Ron coughed, he was startled by his mother's sudden enquiry. There was a pause before Ron answered.

  
“What? No. Why would he?” Ron avoided his mother's wondering gaze. She huffed and placed a hand on her hip. Her mind was obviously miles away. Molly had been picking up a different vibe from Harry in the last few days, she couldn't really work it out but she saw the same hints she saw in Ginny, in Harry.

  
“That didn't sound reassuring. Maybe it's a secret?” Ron ignored his mother and grabbed the dough out of the bowl and placed it onto a baking tray. He reached out for the rolling pin, ready to flatten out ball of mix.

  
“No. Harry doesn't have any secrets.” Ron lied, sure Harry had secrets. Who didn't? Yet Ron was sure that Harry didn't have anybody because Harry was terrible at keeping secrets. Besides, Ron had made it clear that the two had no need for secrets, they could tell each other anything. This was frequently saught to... although not recently.

  
“Mnn. Perhaps I could try and set him up with Ginny. You know how long Ginny’s had a crush on Harry.” Ron gripped the rolling pin tightly at the thought. He hated the idea of Ginny and Harry together. It enraged him to the point of needing to scream out at nothing.

  
“No.” Ron spat. He smacked the rolling pin onto the ball of ginger dough. Molly flinched.

  
“Goodness. Be careful. Not so hard.” Molly snatched the pin out from her son’s hand and took over the task. “What about you? That Hermione girl seems nice.” Ron made a mental note to never allow himself to be in the same room with his mother, alone.

  
“Hermione? Nahh. She has a boyfriend already.” Ron washed his hands under the tap and dried them with the towel. “Viktor Krum, remember?” He had already told his mother the news when he wrote back after the ball.

  
“Too bad. Is there nobody else that catches your eye?” This was awkward, where his mother was spouting this from was a mystery. It was only bearable because Molly wasn't staring into his soul. Ron made himself busy by putting away the clean pots and pans.

  
“Not really. Don't know if I'm ready for a relationship.” That wasn't totally untrue. He wasn't ready to date only because he wasn't sure as to how he felt about the people in his life at the moment. He knew that Hermione didn't have any inclination towards him, then his new and rather unreliable feelings didn't make much sense. He’d have to figure out what it meant before he made any moves.

  
“Aww my munchkin pumpkin. It's alright. You'll meet someone soon. When you can't stop thinking about her, care for her, live to make her happy and believe that she is the most beautiful person in the world.” Molly’s words spoke volumes. His heart began to pound as his mind filled with split second memories that provoked his heart strings. The first person who came to mind was Harry. But why? It still made no sense. “Then you'll know that you're in love.” LOVE, was it love? Ron shook his head, be didn't love Harry. He wasn't gay, besides Harry was his best friend. Ron had frozen, his eyes blank and body motionless. “Ron?” Molly frowned, puzzled.

  
“I errmm...” Ron couldn't string together a sentence, he was still questioning his every thought. Even though his feelings made sense when you considered being in love, but he was sure that he wasn't in love.

  
“What's the matter with you all of a sudden?” Molly held a hand to Ron’s forehead. His head was cool, although slightly moist. “Go and help Harry and Ginny in the front room.” Molly pushed her son out of the kitchen. Ron stopped as soon as the pushing ceased.

  
“Merlin, are you home?” Fred waved a hand in front of Ron’s face, Ron made no reaction. Fred took his youngest brother by the shoulder and shook him; hard enough to dislodge a blood vessel or two.

  
“Leave it out.” Ron shrugged off the pair of hands. His voice sounded harsh and atonal. All of the colour had drained from his face.

  
“Touchy.” Fred teased.

  
“You alright Ron?” Harry came out from behind the tree, he carefully put the ornament he held back in the box. He made his way over towards Ron. With every step Harry took to approach Ron, the recipient took an automatic step back. “Ron?” Harry frowned, concerned by Ron’s behaviour.

  
“I'm not feeling well...” Ron turned quickly to leave. Nobody made an effort to stop him.

  
“Probably eaten too much. Knowing him.” Ginny added. Harry nodded lightly. He didn't really believe that Ron had simply overindulged, he had seen Ron upset before. Ron’s pained face promoted a painful lump to emerge in his throat, his bottom lip pouted ad if he was about to burst into tears. What had gotten into him? Ron left the rooom, he sat on the first step of the stair case.

  
“He'll come back once he smells the food cooking.” George nodded to his brother before picking up the other end of the bunting string. He proceeded to wind the loose end around a mail that hung out of the wooden door frame.

  
“Yeah...” Harry took a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes. They had begun to burn and fill with tears. He wouldn't cry, there was no need to, if he did let even a single stream run down his cheek he’d never hear the end of the belittling.

  
“Lets finish the tree Harry.” Ginny came up behind Harry and slipped her hand into his, pulling him away and towards the tree. It was weird how direct Ginny had been these last few days, before, she’d never laid a hand on Harry much less have the confidence to hold his. Harry dislodged his hand, Ginny didn't try and grab it back but she had caught sight of Harry’s uncomfortable expression. “You alright?” Ginny whispered.

  
“Yeah. Fine.” Harry nodded and smiled nervously. Ginny looked sour and Harry knew that she'd picked up on how brisk he had been.

  
“I don't know why you keep avoiding me.” She poked her head around the tree to get her answer from Harry.

  
“I'm not.” Harry replied bluntly. He didn't really want to make a scene, there was no way he could ask Ginny to take a step back and for her not to blow things out of proportion. Of course Harry knew that Ginny liked him, but the feelings weren't mutual. Meanwhile, Ron still sat on the steps of the stairs.

  
His mother's words relayed through his head, can't stop thinking about her... What was that supposed to mean? He thought about his mum and his sister a lot but that didn't mean that he was in love with them. But, he had been thinking about Harry more often than he cared to admit. Whenyou care about her... He cared about everybody in his life, he was a caring person after all. Yet he’d oddly been slightly concerned about Harry and his wellbeing.

  
Ron shook his head, his mind was leading him to funny conclusions. He had to stop thinking about it. So he stood and took a deep breath. He rolled his head on his neck until it clicked. Although it wasn't much of a relief a small amount of time stress had lifted. He was ready to come back in. No doubt everybody had already finished their jobs and he could already smell the ginger bread baking in the oven.

  
He felt embarrassed about leaving the way he did so he came in without a word. “Told ya he'd come back.” George announced Ron’s arrival.

  
“Feeling better now?” Harry flipped his head round, Ron still had a face like a slapped arse but Harry’s heart lifted knowing that Ron was back in the room.

  
“Yeah, loads.” Ron took one look at Harry and his heart began to race. It'd never done this before. Perhaps he was still in a mood about the whole situation. Still he had to shrug it off and pretend that his head wasn't going to explode.

  
“We're done here. Want to put the topper on?” Harry handed Ron the tree topper. Arthur would have usually done it but he was late home after he'd been called in to work last minute. Ron had never put the star on the tree before, it felt like such an honour. He smiled as he accepted it. Ron climbed up the small ladder to reach the top of the tree. Ron placed the star on the top with ease and looked around the room at his family watching him. Finally he looked down at Harry, he'd been staring back. The corners of Harry’s eyes had curled along with his flashing toothy grin. Ron exhaled, his breath washed the tension away from his soul.  
When you believe that she's the most beautiful person in the world...

  
Then it hit him, the sudden realisation could have knocked him off of his feet had he been so hard headed. He understood now. Harry was the most beautiful person in the world. He'd never thought about it until the other day when he caught himself peeping through the door. Harry was beautiful, as far as a man could be beautiful. His delicate features and his emerald eyes were enough to get lost in. It made sense, sort of. Ron knew that he had feelings for Harry. He didn't know how long they would last and if he'd wake up in the morning and feel different, but as far as he knew, in this moment in time, he was in love.  
A round of applause followed as he released the hand on star. Christmas had really begun at the placement of the topper.

  
“Deary me!” Molly rushed back into the kitchen, lost in the Christmas spirit she'd forgotten about the cookies in the oven. The door swung open not a moment later.

“Welcome home Arthur.” Molly called from the kitchen.

  
“Great job with the house boys, and Ginny.” Arthur took off his hat and hooked it on the rack and threw off his coat, whilst the air outside was bitterly cold, the house was very much like a sauna; what with the logs burning in the fireplace and the oven blazing.

“Mum what's for dinner?” Fred yelled out, the mention of food perked everybody's ears. “M starving.”

  
“I've baked a pie, you'll have to wait a little while longer for the pastry to brown first.” Molly had prepared a steak and kidney pie before they had left for Christmas shopping this morning. It had been placed on a low heat for at least six hours now to retain the moisture lf the steak.

  
“Ah, I see you've put the topper on?” Arthur looked slightly hurt but it made not much difference as to who actually finished the tree. “Good lads.” He added before hunting down his wife for a loving kiss.

  
“The ginger bread men are done and there are some nut brittle already in the living room. Help yourselves but just don't spoil your appetites.” Molly came to the room entrance with a red platter piled high with biscuits. It had always amazed Harry as to how much Molly would cook, it was almost like she’d mistaken their small household for the entirety of the population of Hogwarts.

  
“Sweet.” Ron took the tray, “Harry, take one before these lot eat them all.” Harry took two straight from the top, they were still warm and soft which brought him a wave of comfort. Ron couldn't help but watch, Harry’s cheeks turn red when he's comfortable. When he woke up his cheeks were always ruby red and warm. Ron could only add it to the list of reasons why he liked Harry.

  
“Oh...” Ginny inhaled sharply. She really did take after her mother, nothing got passed her. She'd seen the way Harry and Ron had had looked at each other. She wasn't outraged but much rather confused with what was going on.

  
“Gin?” Percy placed a brotherly hand on his sister's shoulder. She whipped her bead up.

  
“Just hot s'all.” Ginny dared not make a scene or expose what she'd seen without a proper investigation. She was officially on the case.

  
.................................

  
After dinner Molly headed straight back into the kitchen to finish baking some more mince pies and begin a fresh batch of tarts. Now that she didn't have to go through the Christmas childhood rituals with her family she used the time to cook. Although she did miss the cheeky glass of rum that the children would put out.

  
Everybody was really too full to do anything so they each went their separate ways in order to prep for bed. Being the guest of the house, Harry was given first priority for the bathroom. Where there he planned to have a quick shower in order not to hog all of the hot water. Ron waited in his bedroom forHarry to return. To keep himself busy he opened a letter from Hermione that had arrived this morning. It read:

  
_Merry Christmas to the both of you!_  
 _I don'tknow when this letter will arrive so I am writing to wish you both a merry Christmas. I'm still with my family in Cornwall but I hope to travel home on boxing day. It would be great to see you then, if I can. I have lots of lovely goodies for you two that I know you'll appreciate that I picked up these past few days._  
 _Wishing you two are well, Love- Hermione._

  
It would be great to spend the day with the trio together, especially since Harry and Ron had gone out and brought Hermione that expensive dress. Following the letter Ron called down the stairs to his mother, “Mum!” He called and waited for an answer. His mother appeared at the bottom of the staircase not moments later.

  
“Yes?” She hollered back.

  
“Hermione wants to come on boxing day. Can she?” Ron already knew what his mother's response would be. Molly loved having a full home, even if it wasn't full of her own children. Bill and Charlie hardly ever came home for Christmas.

  
“Of course dear.” Molly had told Ron before that he needn't ask, she was always prepared for company.

  
Cheers mum.” Ron turned back into his room, ready to write back to Hermione. He got out a blank shert of parchment and poped the lid off of the ink pot. He began to scribble.

  
_Cheers ‘Mione_  
 _Here's to a merry Christmas to the both of us. Me and Harry pulled together to get you something. Don't worry, it isn't alive or magical in the slightest. See you soon._  
 _Ron & Harry_

  
Ron signed the small note from both himself and Harry absent-mindedly. He rolled up the piece of paper and tied it with some string. He leant out of the window and called “Pig, come here!” Ron had to call the bird a few times before it swooped in. The owl had a small woodland mouse in its beak. “Drop it Pig. I need you to give this to Hermione.” The owl sure enough dropped the mouse, thankfully it was still alive and it scurried away. The bird cooed as Ron gave him the note. Ron gave it a small nudge and it took off.

  
“What was that?” Harry had towel dried his hair and now it stuck up at all ends. The towel was still draped around his neck to stop his shirt from going soggy. Ron smiled and stood up from his desk. He too needed to get in the shower.

  
“’Mione. She wrote to us so I just wrote back.” Ron opened the draws next to his bed and grabbed a clean pair of undies and a vest shirt. He also took out a pair of bottoms from the last draw of his dresser.

  
“Oh. Well you better get in there quick, there's a line. Can I borrow some socks?” The attic was the coldest room in the house and freshly out of the shower the chill of the floor was about to turn his toes blue.

  
“Some thick ones? They're in the middle draw.” Ron was the sock King, his mother had been knitting him socks for years out of the thickest woll she could find.

  
“Thanks.” Harry took the maroon socks and slipped them on, although they were slightly big, they fit comfortably and his toes seemed to warm almost instantly. Ron thought it was cute, Harry had small feet and the patch for the heel of the foot was riding far up Harry’s legs.

  
“I'll be back.”

  
......................

  
Ron came back into his room, he had his shirt in his hand, his hair dripping wet. Harry looked up from his book, “What happened to you?” Harry put the book down beside him. He chuckled.

  
“Its not funny. Fred turned off the hot water and everything got soaked when I dropped the shower.” Ron had chicken skin arms and his nipples were fully erected. Harry couldn't contain his laughter anymore than he had been.

  
“Sorry. Ermmm...” Harry bent over the bed and pulled out another vest shirt, “here.” Harry threw it at Ron.

  
“Cheers. One of these days I swear I'm gonna get him back!” Ron growled. Harry laughed again, Ron always said that and he never actually followed through with any of his revenge plots. “I need a towel.” Ron still stood half naked.

  
“You can have mine.” Harry took the towel off of the boiler. It was still very damp but it would still be okay to dry with. Ron took the towel and began to dry his chest. Harry had never noticed that Ron had quite a nice physique, he was slightly chiseled and he was relatively hairless. For a man, Harry had to admit, Ron was quite attractive.

  
Since the dream this morning, Harry had felt a little aware of Ron. He'd get heart palpitations whenever Ron spoke to him. Harry chocked it up to feeling guilty that he had such a teenage girl dream. The flutters and irregular rhythm were back, not only that his crotch began to fill in his bottoms. Harry felt ashamed, because his dream he'd developed a perverted mind. His hand shot to his ‘problem’ he aimed to cover it away so that Ron wouldn't catch him out. Although he knew Ron would be okay, they were both boys after all, he didn't want to let it become a normal thing. He wasn't going to allow himself to feel the satisfaction because it wasn't right.

  
Harry shook his head. He took a deep breath and looked away.

  
“You alright?” Ron put his new shirt on and chucked the used towel in the washing hamper.

  
“Yeah. Fine.” The truth was that Harry was beyond embarrassed, if he wasn't focusing on making his wood not grow into a fully fledged tree, his cheeks would have burned bright crimson with shame.

  
“You sure? You look constipated.” Ron sat himself beside Harry. Harry did look constipated and with Ron having rested next to him, his face crumpled even more than before.

  
“Of course.” Harry shifted away from Ron a little until he reached the foot of the bed. Ron had noticed that Harry was uncomfortable.

  
“Seriously mate. What's up?” Ron was persisting and Harry didn't quite know what to do. If he stood up to leave then he would expose what he'd been hiding but if he didn't explain what was wrong then Ron wouldn't drop it and keep asking. He couldn't just sit in silence until it went away.

  
“Nothing, really.” Harry gave Ron a fake smile, if he'd seen it himself he wouldn't have even believed it.

  
“I know when you're off Harry. Is it Ginny?” If Ron continued to talk about Ginny then Harry’s problem might dissappear quicker.

  
“What? No. She did try and come on to me earlier. I told her that I wasn't avoiding her but she seemed angry.” Harry rubbed his eyes with his hand, he was unaware that he'd removed the hand that had been concealing the bulge in his bottoms.

  
“Oh, Harry. Should have told me. Its alright.” Ron had seen the slight rise in cloth, although it wasn't as obvious as when the problem had once arose. Harry went bright red, he jumped up from the bed and paced the bedroom floor. “Happens to me all the time.” Ron tried to reassure Harry, “besides...this isn't the first time. ‘S natural.” Harry stood still when he got to the window. He gazed out, his face blank. He remembered that first time Ron had seen him indecently, he'd woken up late for school and jumped out of bed - there it was, creating a tipie in his shorts.

  
“I don't know what came over me.” Harry said silently. He still faced the window, too afraid to turn around.

  
“What’d you mean?” Ron stood up from his bed and came towards Harry, very aware of how on edge the other boy was. He didn't want to get too close otherwise Harry would cease up.

  
“I...just...when you...” Harry couldn't finish his sentence, he wanted to speak but a crippling anxiety stunned his words. What was in his mind just wasn't falling out of his mouth.

  
“You don't have to tell me. Just a part of growing up, y’know?” Ron tried to comfort Harry so that he wouldn't feel so ashamed of such a natural bodily function. Yet, Ron couldn't help but be intrigued by the hint towards himself.

  
“You're right.” Harry sighed with relief, he wasn't really up for telling Ron what brought about his arousal. He didn't understand why he had been aroused in the first place.

  
“Mum brought up the new bedding and she managed to clean the mattress. So at least you get your own bed. Don't have to sleep next to these cheesey toes.” Ron had to lighten the mood and distract away from the knife cutting tension in the room.

  
“She did? That's great, she didn't have to.” Harry noticed the pile of freshly white pillows and a soft new duvet. All for Harry.

  
“You know mum.” Ron shrugged his shoulders, “we have to put on the sheets.” caught up in all of the holiday cooking, she'd forgotten to put the linens on.

  
“No problem. Umm, let's start with the pillows.” Harry rushed passed Ron to grab a pillow and a pillow case. He didn't want to make eye contact at all, seeing that he had dodged a bullet and not told Ron.

  
“This isn't going to turn into a pillow fight is it?” Ron watched cautiously as Harry held his pillow. The memory of last night filled his face with happiness. Ron even considered being the one to start the fight this time just to stir up some of the moments from the night before. However, he didn't think Harry would be up to it after what had happened.

  
“I dunno, is it?” Harry smirked slyly. He didn't take action however. Instead he teased, he wasn't in the mood for a pillow fight.

  
“Suppose not. You sure you'll sleep alright tonight?” Ron would miss Harry sleeping by his side, although it wasn't how he would have preferred it, Harry was still better than no Harry.

  
“Yeah. Why wouldn't I?” Whilst these feelings were rather new, Ron felt disheartened that Harry didn't want to sleep in his bed.

  
“You're right. Well I'm only a bed away if you need me.” Ron didn't wait for Harry to respond, he just began to turn the duvet cover inside-out. Harry felt his heart flutter, he coughed and ignored it, “corners.” Ron had his hands inside the sheet.

  
“Right.” Harry gave Ron the corners of the duvet and watched as Ron clasped them pinching Harry’s finger tips. Harry withdrew them quickly, not wanting to prompt any unwanted feelings. Ron had noticed but went on, he shook the sheet over the top of the duvet. Ron knew it was something that he had to get used to.

  
“Mum always used to say; the faster you go to sleep, the faster it would be Christmas.” Ron threw the duvet on top of Harry who had already jumped into bed. Harry caught it before it fel to the floor and shook it straight. He could finally sleep peacefully.

  
“Aunt Petunia used to say the same thing to Dudley. He believed in Santa until he was twelve.” Of it weren't for Arthur working at the ministry, they would have never fed into the father Christmas myth. Although, Fred and George had ruined it for Ron and Ginny when they were quite young. Molly didn't mind, she felt better knowing that her children knew that their mother had gifted them with their parents.

  
“Merlin...” Ron tutted. “I guess we should sleep? Mum’s put out the fire.” That usually was a signal that it was time to go to bed. If they didn't sleep soon the house would get too cold and sleeping would become impossible.

  
“Night Ron.” Harry watched Ron switch off the lights. He waited for the sound of bed springs before adding, “See you in the morning.”

  
“Yeah, night.” Ron called back. “Sleep tight.”

  
.................... 2AM

  
Harry tossed and turned in bed, his nightmare had pained him once more. The same dream, nothing ever changed. His scar burned hot on his forehead and caused him to wimper out loud. A slight sweat became him as the dream deepened. Voldemort had killed the old caretaker and Wormtail stood staring back at him.

  
“Harry...” Ron tried to shake Harry awake. His efforts seemed to be done in vain as Harry appeared to be trapped in his dream. “Harry.” Ron called, slightly louder this time, but not too loud to wake up the rest of the house. Harry didn't wake. Ron felt helpless, he was used to Harry’s nightmares but tonight he was especially useless. Harry’s pained face caused a heavy lump to form at the back of his throat.

  
Ron pulled back the duvet cover and climbed into Harry’s bed. He lifted Harry’s head and slid his arm underneath. Harry stopped moving. Ron froze, he feared that Harry had woken up and he'd have to explain himself. Harry didn't. Ron exhaled deeply and continued to get Harry comfortable. Ron pulled him in close, it was unexpected but Harry nestled in and gripped Ron's shirt tightly.

  
He wondered if Harry knew he was there, and if he did, did he like him being there? Ron wiped the hair from Harry’s face to stop the sweat gathering.

  
Molly crept up the stairs some moments later with her wand lighting her path. She had heard the noise and came immediately, afraid that it was something important. She slowed down as the sounds coming from the attic stopped. Still she had to check on the boys, he stood in the doorway and peered inside. She dimmed her wand when nobody reacted to the light. She saw one empty bed and followed her gaze across the room to find another single bed filled with two bodies. Ron still held Harry tightly in a deep slumber.  
Molly inhaled sharply, but the initial shock turned into a smile. The fact that she hadn't picked up on this was weird, she was always probingly observant. She turned around again and walked back to her room.

  
“The kids are alright?” Arthur asked groggily.

  
“More than alright.” Molly replied as she placed her wand on the night stand. She put her head to the pillow and giggled to herself happily.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry began to wake a little, the feelings in his limbs began to return, his fingers twitched and his toes spasmed. As he awoke on this cold Christmas morning he felt cosy and warm, unlike most mornings his feet weren't frozen still and his lips weren't chapped. Still, with his eyes closed, he yawned and stretched his legs in the blanket. The bed had a little less room than when he first gotten in the night before.

  
As his mind began to focus he noticed a gentle tickle on his cheek. The tickle was enough to make him stirr and his eyes fluttered open to check out the cause, hoping endlessly that it wasn't a spider. When he opened his eyes he was face-to-face with a grey fabric and the discomfort he had felt was reveled to be tiny blonde hairs.

  
Harry looked up, making sure that his suspicions were true. Ron's helpless sleeping face stared back at him. Harry inhaled sharply but as silently as he could. Ron smacked his lips together, Harry threw his hand over his mouth thinking that he'd just woken his best friend. Ron didn't move again.  
Why was he in bed with Ron? What happened last night? Harry was now fully awake and thinking hard. He shimmied around trying to break free of the grip Ron had on him, Ron wasn't giving up, it was almost as if he held on even tighter every time. Ron curled his arms around Harry and brought him in for a close and tight embrace. Harry shut his eyes and pretend to still be asleep.

  
Still largely unconscious, Ron planted a delicate kiss upon Harry’s forehead. Harry blushed uncontrollably. His indecency spread to the tip of his ears and down towards the small hairs on his feet. Ron released his grip and rolled onto his back to stretch out. For a brief moment Harry opened his eyes before closing them soon after when Ron rolled back.

  
“Mnnn.” Ron muttered softly. Harry didn't respond instead he kept his eyes closed tight.

  
Ron opened his eyes, he hardly remembered anything about last night all he really remembered was Harry having another bad dream. Ron had no recollection of getting into Harry’s bed and staying there. Ron bit his lower lip anxiously as tried to pull his arm out from underneath Harry’s head.

  
Harry didn't wish to make the situation awkward and continued his act. Ron had successfully managed to escape with waking Harry - or so he still believed that the man he shared a bed with was still sleeping. That is before he moved a leg off of the bed, misjudging how close he was to the edge and he fell to the floor with a mighty thump.

  
“Ron?” Harry shot up and peered over the side of the bed. “You alright?” Ron stood up and brushed the dust off of his bottoms. His face was illuminated with shame.

  
“Yeah...’m fine. So how long ‘ve you been awake?” Ron pulled back the sheets to his own bed, it must have been early still seeing that Molly hadn't busted through the door screaming with joy;’ merry Christmas!’

  
“Not long.” Harry coughed nervously before reaching over for his glasses. They had somehowdeveloped a small film of dirt overnight so he roughly cleaned them with his duvet before putting them on.

  
“Right...well...ermmm...you were having another bad dream. I thought that having me...” Ron trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. He had been selfish about wanting to sleep with Harry, thinking of his own emotions before that of his friend’s.

  
“Don't worry Ron. Doesn't matter.” Both sat in silence for a brief while not knowing how to justify or comfort each other about what happened.

  
“Mum won't be long I suppose. She's always waking us up at godawful hours.” Ron quickly changed the subject after gazing over at his bedside clock, it was already six in the morning. “What was it about this time?”

  
“Oh, the same as usual I guess. It never really changes.” Harry admitted. It was more often than not the only dream he would have. Some nights it wouldn't cause him such distress and others he was overwhelmed with pain and awoke in sweats. Although, the dream he had a few nights ago seemed to be the only ‘good’ dream he'd had in a long while.

  
“You think it's important? It's gotta be, int’it? To have it so often.” Ron relaxed onto his bed and crossed his legs over each other and rested his head on folded arms.

  
“I suppose. I haven't really thought about it.” In all honesty, he'd tried not to think about the dream very much. With all of the things going wrong this year he had enough pent up anxiety to deal with, without dissecting his brain for answers.

  
“Best not to think on it so much. Not much good will come from it.” Ron stared at the ceiling above his head. On some level he knew that his words extended to his own predicament.

  
“You're right.” At that moment the door creaked open, no doubt it was Molly coming to wake them up to come down and open their gifts. A mess of curly red hair poked out before the woman herself.

  
“You're up? Come down dears.” Molly replied happily. Although she was slightly concerned that the two were no longer sharing the same bed. She didn't wish to pry - at this moment. At some point she'd have to sit her son down for a nice long chat.

  
“Let me get a jumper.” Ron swung his legs off of the bed and unhooked his jumper from the handle of his wardrobe. He held in in his arm as he made his way to the door. Harry did the same, the house wouldn't be warm for a few hours yet.

  
“I'll go and wake up Ginny.” Once satisfied that the boys weren't going to dash back into their beds she left them to come downstairs on their own accord.

  
“You go on.” Ron held back as Harry re-re-opened the door. He had to collect Harry’s present from under the bed and surprise him when they actually opened each other's gifts. Harry nodded and left. Ron knelt down beside his bed and dug around the tightly packed space under it. He remembered the familiar shape and crunch of the packaging. He pulled out the oddly shaped wrappings and tucked it under his arm. He strode out of the room and hurried down the never ending staircase.

  
“Ron! Good we're all here then! Everyone sit, sit.” Molly waved her wand and the gifts from under the tree appeared on the kitchen table, gifts were sorted in each chair. Harry looked around the table, expecting his pile to be the smallest. Instead he had a fair few presents which put a gaping smile on his face. Everyone sat in their seats. “No doubt this won't be the lot.”

  
“This is plenty.” Harry picked up his first gift. He could already tell that it was a handmade item of clothing from Molly. He began to tare at it like a child, pulling strips of paper away until he could hold the insides.

  
“I made that specially for you, I know you'll love it.” Harry opened the jumper out, it had a large dragon plastered on the front, it strikingly resembled the dragon he had fought during the first trial.

  
“Wow.” Harry sized it up to himself.

  
“It is a little big but you'll grow into it.” Molly knew that Harry was small, in comparison to her son, he was tiny but she knew that Harry would hit a growth spirt soon much like Ron had over the summer. It was only a matter of time.

  
“I love it.” Harry laid the jumper out on his lap so that it didn't get in the way of opening his other gifts. Harry had noticed a tin, although it wasn't wrapped, it had a small bow stuck to the top. He pulled the lacing off and threw open the lid. He was used to getting freshly baked goods from Molly. She'd made him nut brittle, one of his favourites. Harry couldn't help himself and took one straight away.

  
“Gis’ one.” Ron reached out to take one straight from the tin.

  
“That one.” Harry pointed to the one Ron could have, it was the smallest piece because it'd split in two. Ron was only allowed to have that single half. Ron took it anyway.

  
“You've got your own!” Molly slapped her son’s hand, although it was slightly too late, Ron threw the half into his gullet. Although he should have thought twice before taking a massive bite down. The brittle was extremely crunchy. Harry giggled as Ron rubbed his jaw.  
Ron had learnt to accept his mother's gifts, Harry had been given a beautiful jumper and Ron, her own flesh and blood, was given a pair of moave socks. He was quite grateful for the sweets that his brothers had given him, he wasn't expecting anything from them after asking for money. They cared some of the time.

  
“I have invited Hagrid over for supper tonight and Charlie promised to pop by at some point during the day.” They didn't see very much of Charlie now that he moved to Romania to look after dragons at the sanctuary. Although, when Charlie came back last, it was to bring the dragons for the task just a few weeks ago.

  
“Charlie's comin? Now you'll meet him.” Ron elbowed Harry with a mouth full of his own stash of brittle. At least he could trust Charlie, which meant that he'd try and talk to him about the latest developments in his life. There would be no way ge could talk to his brothers, they'd only tease him. If he told his mother she wouldn't stop fussing and that left his dad; however if he told his dad he would run straight to Molly.

  
“Yeah.” Ron had told Harry that Charlie was gay when they first met, he seemed really proud of his brother and what he'd accomplished despite the hatred amongst the pure bloods towards homosexuals.

  
“I'll put some breakfast on? Pancakes anyone?” Molly witnessed a swarm of hands fling into the air all demanding pancakes.

  
“I have this for you, it's not much.” Ron shrugged off the act and coolly slid the package over to Harry. He didn't want to make a big deal out of it.

  
“I didn't get you anything. I thought we weren't going to get each other anything?” Harry felt bad for not getting Ron anything, knowing that even a small gift from Ron was quite a gesture. He would have to get him something at a later date.

  
“I was a jerk to you, but you're my best mate. So I just wanted to give you something.” Harry began to open the wrapping. It was tightly held together with tape and a mess of string. But Harry made his way to the bare paper underneath. He couldn't quite make it out yet, not like he had been able to before.

“It'll come in handy.” Ron smiled to himself, knowing that he'd just made a successful pun.

  
Harry unraveled the paper and the pair of gloves lay balled up, “Some gloves? Thanks Ron.” Harry wasn't really expecting a pair of gloves given Ron's track record. Ron watched with anticipation as Harry looking upon his gift.

  
“No, no. They're charmed. When you put them on they warm up. Thought you'd like them since your hands are always cold...” Ron coughed, he was mumbling, not wanting to embarrasse himself. Harry unpicked the ball and put the gloves on.

  
“This is great Ron.” Harry felt his palms grow warm, the heat rose up his arms.

  
“You know...” Ron came close to Harry’s ear. Harry shivered a little as Ron's lips gently touched his ear lobe, “at least Ginny won't try and hold your hand now.” Ron whispered quietly. He pulled away.

  
“Might take more than that.” Harry raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. It would surely take more than some gloves for Ginny to give him some space.

  
“You're probably right. You like them though? Didn't really know what to get. You brought me those expensive binoculars before we started school....” Ron admitted bashfully, his gift didn't really compare - price wise. Yet it was the thought that really counted.

  
“Yeah, don't worry.” Harry clasped his hands together wearing the gloves. They fit very comfortably, the gloves he owned were too long and so extra fabric hung off of the end of his fingers.

  
“Good, I'm glad.” Molly reappeared with a plate piled high with pancakes, they were slapped on so carelessly that at any moment they'd fall over like a jenga tower. From the bottom one plate flew out from under the other and landed in front of everybody around the table until the last plate was that holding the pancakes.

  
“Now, how many?” Pancakes left the pile and drifted around the room and onto the plates. Following was the jar of syrup from the cupboard, it dropped to the centre of the table, thankfully on a stray piece of paper seeing as the jar was sticky and would have ruined the table cloth. Once everything was served Molly sat down. “Dig in.” She didn't need to speak twice.

  
Therewasn't much to do this early in the morning, they had all decided to wait for Charlie to arrive to play a friendly match of quidditch in the yard. Instead everyone was lounging in the front room either chomping or resting. Molly was making a gingerbread house in the kitchen, putting the final touches of icing to make the doors and windows. Fred and George were playing badminton under Molly’s stric supervision encase they knocked anything over.

  
The time was creeping by as Harry and Ron lost themselves in an intense game of wizards chess. That's when the door creaked open.

  
“Mum?” A voice called out from the door entry way. Molly’s ears perked up.

  
“Charlie?” Molly sucked the icing off of her index finger and dried it on her apron. She hurried to greet her son. “So glad you could make it!” She threw her arms around her son's neck and squeezed him tightly.

  
“I told you I would. I come baring gifts.” Charlie lifted his hand, in it was a brown bag, obviously charmed to be bottomless seeing as he hadn't even brought a suitcase with him.

  
“Come on through.” Molly led the way back into the living room. A shuttlecock flew past her head, she squatted it away, “will you two be careful!” she cried out.

  
“Boy do I miss this.” He held out his left arm to give both of his brothers a friendly brotherly hug - a short embrace with a pat on the back. “Been a while.” He added. “You two can't even break away from the board to say hello to your brother?” Charlie placed a firm hand on Ron's shoulder.

  
“Oh, hi.” Ron looked up momentarily and then back down again to make his next move.

  
“Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?” Charlie flicked his brother’s ear playfully, the boy had very sensitive skin and the area grew red very quickly.

  
“Aw, okay!” Ron stood up and Harry followed his example. “This is Harry.” Ron gestured to Harry standing next to him.

  
“I know who he is numpty. I shouldn't have had to ask you to introduce him.” Charlie glared at his brother. “Its nice to meet you. I'm Ron's brother Charlie.” Charlie held out his hand for a welcoming handshake. Harry accepted the gesture but was unpredictably pulled in for a hug instead.

  
“Its nice to meet you too.” Charlie let the boy go.

  
“At least my brother has at least one friend.” He teased. Harry need not wonder where the twins had learnt their childish ways. Although, Charlie was seemingly more mature.

  
“Har har.” Ron rolled his eyes at his brother's lame antics.

  
“So, Harry, how's the competition?” Molly came rushing back from the kitchen with a hot chocolate in her hand and a napkin in the other.

  
“Now don't spill it.” Molly gave over the contents of her hands.

  
“I think she forgets that I'm not five anymore.” Molly arched an eyebrow. “Good thing you had that broom.” Charlie prompted.

  
“Oh yeah, for sure. Probably wouldn't still be here if I didn't.” Harry admitted.

  
“That Horntail was a devil, he'd been spiteful since he hatched.” Harry thought it was really awesome that Charlie worked with dragons for a living. If he changed his mind about his future goals then it would be something he'd greatly consider doing for the rest of his life.

“Wasn't our choice what to bring down. If it was, she'd have stayed at locked in her pen.” Harry gave a toothy smile.

  
“Can I have one mum?” Ron watched, envious of the steaming drink in his brother's hand, it contained so many marshmallows that it was nearly impossible to take a sip from the cup.

  
“You too Harry?” Molly paused before turning.

  
“Um, no thank you.” Harry shook his head.

  
“That's a yes, get the boy a drink mum.” Harry blushed, he didn't want to impose, he never asked for anything and whenever he was offered something he'd turn it down even if he really wanted it. He'd been that way for a long time.

  
“I've told you before Harry dear, it's no trouble. Anything you need.” Molly put one hand on her hip and the other pointed Harry in the face.

  
“I will.” Harry knew that nothing would change, he'd still be too nervous to even ask for a glass of water. Dying of dehydration would be an easier way out than asking for something to drink.

  
“Ah, right.” Charlie poped open his bag and dug his hand in, his whole arm had been sucked into the bag as he rooted for the gifts he was looking for. “No... Not it... Ah ha!”

Charlie pulled out a green wrapped package. “Mum, this is for you.” Charlie exchanged the gift for the cocoa.

  
“You didn't have to.” Molly tore open the wrappings to find a brand new set of sewing needles and some yarn. She kissed her son on the cheek.

  
“I have some for everyone, and if I remember correctly, something for Harry too.” Once again the hand went in and something came out, “for you, Ginny.” A bow, although Ginny hadn't worn bows since she was seven, it was a pretty bow nonr the less. She took the bow with an odd look on her face. “You two.”

Two small parcels were brought back out, “Don't use these in the house.”

  
Fred and George opened the small box, the two knew exactly what they were looking at having only seen it in store yesterday. Fireworks. “Sweet.” The two exclaimed simultaneously.

  
“You didn't?” Molly cried. Charlie winked at his brothers. Molly slapped her son across the arm in protest.

  
“And for Perc, its just a note book.” The book wasn't wrapped or anything, he just passed it along, “oh and a quil.” The quil was a little more extravagant, it was was gold and shimmered in the light, it looked like a scale that belonged to a newborn dragon.  
“Thank you.” Percy ruffled a hand through his mess of curly hair.

  
“Ron, this will be a hit or miss,” It was quite a large package, ron removed the first layer of paper to find a second, Charlie smirked to himself. Ron tore open the second set, and the third.

  
“Really? C’mon!” Charlie burst into laughter. Ron continued to tare away layer after layer onto the floor until the package began incredibly thin and flimsy. “What even is this?” Ron could bend the gift, it felt like a wod of parchment. That is, until he pulled away the last layer. “A hat?” Ron felt let down, after all of that all he got was a hat.

  
“Its got the Bulgarian logo on it? You love quidditch!” Charlie picked up the hat and pulled it open, placing it very roughly on his brother's head.

  
“I suppose.” He'd had second thoughts about his loyalty to the Bulgarian team after Viktor began showing an interest in Hermione. Not that his brother was supposed to have known that.

  
“Harry, since I don't actually know you. I don't know an awful lot about you so I guessed what you'd possibly like from what I've seen of you in the papers.” This gift was too not wrapped, instead the gift was quite firmly in a frame. It was a picture - of Harry’s parents.

  
“Where'd you find this?” Harry watched the picture move, his father was planting a kiss on his mother's forehead repeatedly. Harry had received a whole scrap book of his parents memories but he'd never seen this picture before.

  
“It was in a box of stuff when I moved the other week I was packing my belongings away and stumbled upon this. It must have come from here.” Harry was still in awe over the picture, he'd seen it replay countless times already but it still tugged on his heart strings.

  
“It's great that you found it.” Harry replied, still looking at the image.

  
“If I had found it earlier you would have been given it.” Charlie downed the last of his hot chocolate, it was still burning hot which brought a slight tear to his eye, even though nothing fell.

  
“Still, thanks.” The room had gone sullen and quiet.

  
“Right, who fancies a game?” Fred blurted out through the silence.

  
“Sure you can handle it? If I remember correctly, you lost last time.” Charlie teased. The two squared up to each other, the two almost stood at the same height. “A lot smaller last time too.” Charlie still stood a few inches taller, but he knew it wouldn't be that way for very long.

  
“Been doing a lot of growing, much better now. I'm on the school team.” Fred boasted.

  
“Oh enough you two.” Arthur came down the staircase, in his night robes and new pyjamas, fresh from having a shower. “Nice to see you again son.” Arthur pulled his son in for a fatherly hug.

  
“Nice to see you too dad.” Charlie patted his father on the back.

  
“Now off you two. Go have some fun.” Arthur have them both a cheery thumbs up.

  
“Want some butter beer Arthur, it's still too early for a scotch.” Molly gave her husband a kiss on the cheek as he took a seat at the head of the kitchen table. He slumped into the chair heavily and gave a heavy exhale.

  
“That'd be lovely dear.” The yard filled with noise, squabbles and cheering, laughter and mocking sounds as they begab their game. The two doting parents gazed at each other, gifted with a moment alone.


	8. Chapter 8

Hagrid swung back on his chair with a jolly smile, he'd had far too much to drink, having drunk from smaller glasses the quantity of alcohol he'd consumed was beyond his recollection. Both Molly and Arthur were laughing alongside, partly at Hagrid and partly at his funny tales of goings-on inside the school.

  
The big clock on the wall chimed 10 o'clock. “Blimey, is that the time? I better be off then!” Hagrid sat up from the table and his chair scooted backwards and scraped along the floor. “By the way, Harry. I've got something for you.” Hagrid opened the side of his big furry coat and pulled out a gift. There was no mistaking what it could have been, the very sight made Harry’s eyes light up.

  
“Who's it from Hagrid?” Harry took the gift in both hands and placed it carefully on the table. Ron and the twins crowded round him, peering over his shoulder with anticipation. Harry undid the string holding the wrappings together. The paper fell away from the gift.

  
“Bloody hell Harry, that's a Firebolt!” Ron shrieked.

  
“I can't tell you who it's from exactly, but I can say that it comes from someone who cares about ya.” Hagrid gave Harry a warm smile, from his words Harry knew exactly who had purchased the broom for him. It couldn't be anybody else but his Godfather, Sirius Black.

  
“Three guesses who.” Ron answered back cheekily. Hagrid rocked back and forth on the ball of his feet, quite intoxicated.

  
“On that note, I'll leave you to it.” Molly and Arthur rose from their chairs to see Hagrid out. Harry broke away from his broom long enough to give Hagrid a hug, his head rested on the half giant's stomach and Harry’s hands seemed like polar magnets that refused to touch.

  
“Have a nice Christmas Hagrid.” Harrypulled away giving the over towering man a friendly smile.

  
“Don't cause too much trouble on that thing, alright?” Hagrid warned playfully. Hagrid waved to the others in the room as he was led out into the hallway.

  
“Lovely broom you've got there.” Charlie ran a finger over the knooks and bumps along the polished wood. The sleekness of the design was undeniably a thing of beauty. Harry watched as the slightly calloused member touched his broom.

  
“It is,” Harry nodded. “let's just hope that I don't break this one. I'm cursed with brooms.” Harry reflected on the last time he'd owned his own broom. He'd flown up too high in a storm and was attacked by Dementors. Whilst he seemingly fell to his death, his broom had flown into the Womping Willow tree and was crushed into unfixable pieces.

  
“That's a pitty. I would hate to see such a magnificent broom go to waste.” Charlie had his gaze fixed on Harry whilst he spoke. The stare was unsettling and uncomfortable. Harry swallowed a large lump of saliva and looked away. If Harry hadn't known about Charlie's orientation, then he wouldn't have felt like he was being eyed-up.

  
“Yeah. It'd be too expensive to replace if I broke it.” Harry tried to keep the conversation tied to the broom.

  
“I see. Well I'll leave you and your broom alone, for some much needed bonding.” Charlie crooked a grin and turned his back to walk into the kitchen.

  
“Anybody up for some pie?” Molly called out. She had a steaming pie in her oven-oven-mitted hands. The smell filled the room and made once full bellies, rumble with delight.

  
“Ron, might I have a word - brother to brother?” Charlie placed a hand firmly on his brother's shoulder. Ron looked up, slightly concerned.

  
“Yeah... Umm... Sure.” Charlie took him by the arm and led him out into the garden, where there he unlocked the garden shed.

  
“As messy as usual.” Charlie looked around at the broken pots scattered on the floor and the cluttered work bench in the corner. “What I'm about to ask might be a little personal, so I want you to be honest. What's honesty between brothers?”

  
“Yeah sure.” Ron bit his bottom lip and placed his hands in his trousers anxiously.

  
“Good. I've noticed the way that you've treated your friend Harry at dinner tonight...”

  
.................

 

“C’mon Potter. Your reputation exceeds you.” Charlie called out Harry’s incompetence in the air. Simply a tactic to throw Harry off of his game.

  
“Harry’s one of the best players of the century. He'll beat you any day.” Fred teased. Charlie chuckled a little, sarcastically.

  
“Let's see then.” Charlie dipped his broom down and headed straight for the ball held under Harry’s arm. Once he'd knocked it free he threw it up into the air mockingly. Harry hadn't even been aware of Charlie's moves he'd been baffled by the ex-ex-player’s still fresh abilities.

  
....................

  
“Come on in, dinner’s on the table!” Everybody had been playing for hours on end. Molly had called them in for a snack and a drink, otherwise they wouldn't have come in at all and starved all day. Yet, Christmas dinner was finally served. With hungry stomachs, each ditched their brooms and came racing inside. “Each of you take a -” The door knocked. The sound of heavy knuckles against the hard wooden door echoed through the house. “Ah, finally!” Molly rushed to answer the door. “Welcome, welcome. You're just in time!” Molly greeted Hagrid at the door.

  
“Glad I didn't miss it!” Hagrid eagerly stepped inside. The sweet smell of roast chicken and sweet potatoes almost knocked Hagrid to his backside.

  
“Hagrid!” Harry cheered. Hagrid opened his arms out for a much needed hug.

  
“Nice to see you ‘Arry.” Hagrid patted the boy on the head.

  
“Sit, sit. I’ll bring out the food.” Already the table had been set up, Molly had placed out some party crackers for a much deserved lightness to the evening, what's Christmas dinner with telling novelty jokes?

  
Harry sat down in his chair and Hagrid sat beside him. “How's yer holiday been so far?” Hagrid pondered.

  
“Its been great!” Harry couldn't fault his stay so far, it was proving to be a very great Christmas. The best he'd ever had so far.

  
“Glad to hear.” Hagrid couldn't take his eyes off of the bird as Molly brought it to the table. Arthur stood to help place the tray in the centre of the table. He picked up the carving knife, although he'd missed putting the tree topper on, he definitely wasn't going to miss carving the chicken.

  
“Would everybody raise a glass?” Arthur announced. Everyone picked up their glasses of fizz, Christmas was the only time Molly would let her children drink any form of alcohol. “I just wanted to recognise another year gone by full of happiness, love and hard work. I know that next year will be just like this one. Merry Christmas.” The room filled with the clinking of glasses and everybody turned to greet each other with a hearty ‘cheers’.

  
Ron tapped his glass against Harry’s, the two smiled at each other. Harry snapped out of his gazing trance with the call of his name. Charlie had his glass held out in front of him waiting for Harry to respond. Harry did, Charlie raised a brow and gave a cheeky grin. Ron frowned and glared at his older brother. He didn't approve of the exchange in looks betweenhis brother and his best mate.

  
“Take what you like everyone, there's plenty to go round.” Molly had gone out of her way to purchase another leg of lamb yesterday to cook up tonight, knowing that she'd have a full table once again. Everybody scrambled in, forking potatoes and lifting thick cuts of meat. The gravy jug was being passed around, each showing no consideration for the next; drowning their dinner. Harry gratefully refused, gravy made his roast potatoes soggy.

  
Fred picked up the cracker to his left and daringly wiggled it in front of his brother's face. George took the bait and grasped the opposite end firmly, not knowing that his brother had his thumb dug further up the cracker to ensure a victory. The two yanked in their directions, faces screwed with immense concentration. With very little surprise Fred had pulled the bigger half and a small firework flew up into the air following a shattering bang sound. Harry looked on, the muggle crackers were lame, they poped but with no jazz.

  
“What do you call a dragon with no wings?” Fred paused and everybody leaned in to hear the punch line, “a salamander....” The room fell silent at the terribleness of the joke. Harry couldn't help but chuckle. Muggle crackers didn't seem very different from wizard crackers after all. Harry’s small laughter triggered the rest to burst out in a fit of laughter.

  
“Harry?” Ron held out his cracker. Harry looked up and dropped his knife and fork.

  
“I've never been good at these.” Harry took the polar end and tighten his grip around the handle. Ron smiled slightly, something unnoticeable. Ron simply held his end, when Harry began to pull he didn't place any resistance. It would be a far greater experience to let Harry win. Harry tried his hardest until eventually `bang!’. The cracker broke in two and a squealing spark set for the ceiling. Winning brought a huge smile to Harry’s face. “Yes!” He cried out.

  
“See I knew you could do it.” Ron placed his useless end next to his plate. Hagrid chuckled loudly and his jolly belly shook Charlie raised a brow, he'd never seen his brother so put out. It seemed like his brother was one smitten kitten.

  
Dinner went by smoothly, crackers were pulled and plates were cleared and licked clean. Molly loved to see empty plates. “Can somebody help me take the plates to the sink?” Molly stood and began stacking the plates of Ginny and Arthur who sat either side.

  
“I'll help.” Harry volunteered. He scooted his chair backwards and rose to his feet. The weight of his midsection weighing him down.

  
“No, Harry I'll do it. Just sit.” Ron took over what Harry had been doing. And without waiting to listen to his protest, continued to stack plates and scrape leftovers off of one and onto the top plate of the pile.

  
“Harry you can help by collecting all of the rubbish.” Molly replied. After having seen her son on need with Harry last night, her son's actions only seemed to reaffirm her thoughts. She zipped off to the kitchen to rid of the heavy load. It was lucky enough that she didn't have to wash up all of what was used.

  
..............

 

“What are you getting at?” Ron replied defensively. Ron shrugged, his shoulders touched his ears. He turned his back on his brother.

  
“I've seen what it is to be in love. Whether its with a girl or a.... guy.” Charlie spoke with experience. It was hard for him to come out to his family, and even harder to reveal the secret to his friends. Times hadn't changed much since then, the wizarding world was still prejudice and there were very few kind hearts to trust.

  
“You're mental.” Ron’s voice cracked.

  
“Does your little friend know that you have a crush on him?” Charlie folded his arms across his chest and leaned back on a work bench. He instantly straightened as he had sat on a broken piece of pottery. With a flick of his wrist the piece and all of the dirt around it disappeared.

  
“I don't have a crush on Harry alright?” He didn't really know why he wasn't telling his brother that he liked Harry. It didn't make much sense to hide it from him, it wouldn't change anything, perhaps it might even be quite beneficial.

  
“So if I went out there and asked him out, you'd be okay with it?” Ron's eyes blew up and his brows narrowed. He whipped around, daggers stabbing metaphorical holes in his brother's - everywhere.

  
“You wouldn't!” Ron clenched his fists so tightly that one or two cracked in place. Although he would never lay a hand on his brother, it was hard for him to keep reserved.

  
“No? Then tell me. I'm your brother. What you tell me won't reach mum's prying ears.” Charlie placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, he shook his brother a little to snap him out of his fuming funk. Ron stared at the floor.

  
“I don't know! I think I do... ermm I mean.... Its all confusing.” Ron shrugged off the hand and began to pace the small and confined space around him.

  
“It doesn't have to be you know. How does he make you feel?” Charlie rubbed the bridge of his nose, he found his brother rather frustrating but being impatient would only put his brother off even more so it was best to try and approach with a calm attitude; despite the notion of wanting to shake his brother silly.

  
“Well...he's handsome- I guess.” Ron paused, “but sweet...so it makes me want to take care of him. Y’know?” Ron blushed, his cheeks out-shone his ginger locks. “He's funny too, we have a lot of fun together.” Ron let his mind drift back to the night of the brutal pillow fight and how he enjoyed himself more than ever.

  
“What about in here-?” Charlie placed a hand above Ron’s heart. He watched as his brother gulped a little.

  
“It goes rampant like it's gonna explode. Makes me feel sick sometimes.” Ron could feel just the thought of Harry, bringing about the same palpitations. Whenever he saw Harry smile it seemed as though his heart had dropped into his stomach.

  
“Love will do that to a man.” Charlie felt empathetic, he hadn't felt that way in a long time and he missed the gut wrenching roller-coaster loved caused. On the flip side, he didn't miss exactly that; the flips and twists that brought unpredictably. “How long’s it been going on for?”

  
“Dunno really. Mainly the last week or so. Maybe even before that.” Ron wasn't entirely sure when his feelings began, he'd always seen Harry as attractive and the two had frequently joked about marrying each other if neither had done so already by the ripe age of 40. In all honesty, Ron had, for as long as he could remember, livedfor Harry’s happiness - staying at school during Christmas, giving Harry the last sweet from every box of whatever he'd had.

  
“Ah, so it's shallow waters? No wonder you're confused. I can tell you now, that with my expert diagnosis, based on many...many years of experience, it sounds like you really do love your friend. He might have a thing for you too.” Ron stared on with a vacant and confused expression.

  
“There's no way. Harry’s straight.” Ron protested. He would have known if his best friend was gay, wouldn't he?

  
“Don't be so sure. You thought that you were straight, not two weeks ago.” Ron shook his head in denial, “I saw the connection between you two at dinner. If I were you, I'd talk to him.” Ron continued to shake his head. There was no way he could muster up any courage of any sort to share his feelings.

  
“No...no.” Charlie signed heavily as Ron dismissed him.

  
“At least tell him you're gay. See where he stands.” Ron had to admit to that much. Charlie was right, at least if Harry knew that he was attracted to males - not specifically Harry, he could discern whether Harry would accept it.

  
“Yeah... I will.” How he would approach the situation was beyond him as of yet.

  
“We should probably get back before mum rallies the troops to come find us.” Ron smiled, it was half hearted and limp but his brother's words did make him feel slightly better. The two walked back to the house in silence.

  
“What was that all about?” Harry stood in the doorway as Ron and Charlie entered again. The two hadn't been gone for too long but their absence was beginning to raise questions. Ron couldn't look Harry directly in the eyes.

  
“Brother stuff.” Charlie interrupted before Ron cocked up an excuse.

  
“Oh. Right okay.” Ron had his head dipped down as they walked towards the kitchen table. Ron had noticed that Harry was wearing the gloves he had brought him, along with the cheesey jumper. The jumper was oversized and baggy which only emphasised the small nature of the boy’s frame. Ron found himself smiling fondly at the sight. “Your mum has cut the last of the pies. She wanted me to come and get you.”

  
“There you are. I thought you would have been the first at the table the moment I called.” Molly teased. Harry nudged Ron with his shoulder playfully. “I didn't even bother asking if you wanted a piece.” Molly handed Ron a plate and fork, “Its pumpkin and cinnamon.” Ron sat himself down and began to tear through his pie like his siblings that surrounded him. Eventually he narrowed to the crust of the pastry and picked at it. His stomach was bound tightly in knots.

  
“I'll finish it for you.” Harry took the fork, he couldn't let any of Molly's pie go to waste after already finishing his slice. Ron barely noticed when the utensil was snatched from his hand.

  
“I know it's not too late but if you'd like to go and scrub up for bed I'll make everybody a hot cup of cocoa.” It was only eight but everyone had been up since daylight’s peek through the winter's night.

  
“Sounds like a good idea, come on then you lot. I'm going to get a move on.” Charlie began to push his sister and George towards the staircase. He had to make his way back to the reservation soon or he might be late for work in the morning.

  
“You could always use the flu system.” Molly replied, hoping her son would stay a little later.

  
“Its alright mum, I've booked a flight to Latvia to collect a dragon egg before it hatched. Then I'll have to travel back to Romania.” His brother's had always been envious of Charlie's job, being able to travel free of charge, all over the world.

  
“Oh you do have a busy few days ahead of you. I guess you'll have to drop by sometime soon.” Molly raised a finger at her son. Arthur hadn't come to the door, he'd fallen asleep on the armchair in living room after dinner had proven to be a bit too much for him to cope with.

  
“I won't leave it so long next time” Charlie promised before opening his arms for a motherly embrace. Molly hurried between her son's arms and gave him a few hard pats on the back and a few gentle rubs.

  
“You better not.” Molly broke away and opened the door to wave her son goodbye until he was out of visual range. His brother's and sister called from the staircase saying their goodbyes.

  
............

  
“What were you and your brother talking about earlier?” Harry had thrown himself onto his bed and relaxed into it. He was staring up at the ceiling getting lost in his thoughts.

  
“Ermm...he just gave me some advice.” Ron didn't proceed with telling Harry anything further. Instead he took off his fluffy jacket and threw it over the bed frame at the foot of the bed. Ron had developed a nervous sweat and the exta thick layer wasn't helping.

  
“Advice?” Harry didn't mean to pry but he couldn't help it. This was the first time he'd met Charlie and the older man intrigued him.

  
“Yeah about dating and stuff. Not important really.” Ron brushed off Harry’s advances, instead he opened the boiler closet and grabbed his towel, he wasn't going to shower but he needed to wash his face a little.

  
“Ah, right. Well did you talk about Hermione? Anything make sense now?” Sitting up, Harry took off his socks and scrunched them into a ball.

  
“Not exactly.exactly. Cleared up some things though.” Harry looked on, slightly confused with Ron's secrecy. He had noticed a change in Ron since he'd spoken with his brother and that only fueled the suspicion he had.

  
“Is that right? Anything that you can tell me?” Harry would hate for the two of them to fall out again over a lack of communication. He'd felt closer to Ron the last few weeks than he had ever been, an argument would only cause more havoc.

  
“Not right now. Not being funny but I don't really know how to tell you...I will. So don't worry.” A small smile took over Ron's lips, although artificial, gave Harry some level of comfort. He took the hint and quit his efforts, “I'll be back.” Ron left the room.

  
Harry took this time to change his clothes and put on something comfy. From his trunk he pulled out a checkered pair of blue bottoms and a grey t-shirt. He was alone in the room and so he began to strip off, once he'd taken off the junper and his old shirt he balled the shirt and aimed it at the hamper in the corner. Of course, Harry had no such luck and it had missed the bulging basket. He sighed but carried on anyway.

  
“Come on you sorry lot!” George called up from the bottom of the stairs. Heads poped round the banister spiraling all the way to the top. George's piercing voice shook their ageing father out of his Christmas feast slumber. 

  
“Hu?” Arthur looked around, the curtains were drawn and the candles were lit.

  
“You! Goodness sake.” Molly whacked her husband with her tea-tea-towel. “Anyway, cocoa is ready. There's some marshmallows on the counter.” Ron came out from the bathroom, the mess of hair that flopped over his forehead and the long strands that hung by his face was dripping wet.

  
“I'll bring them up.” Ron popped his head round the door, Harry had been in his boxers and luckily he had been dressed above the waist too. “Sorry.” Ron ducked back again.

  
“Don't worry, I could come with you.” Assured that his presence wasn't unwanted, Ron came into the room fully. Harry quickly pulled up his bottoms and snapped the waist band.

  
“You're my guest. Won't be long.” Ron proceded to leave. Harry raised his finger as if he was about to speak, “no marshmallows. I know.” Ron called out before shutting the door behind him. Harry sat on the side of the bed impatiently. Harry could hear Ron's heavy feet fall on every other step as he hurried down to the bottom.

  
“Here you go. Want any?” Molly handed Ron the small dish with the oversized marshmallows. Ron picked out two as that was all that would fit in the mug. If it was up to him he'd have taken a handful. “None for Harry?”

  
“Nah, he doesn't like them.” Ron pushed the bowl to the side. He picked up the round tray by the sides and steadied his hands. He could feel his mother burning a whole in the back of his ginger head.

  
“Don't you spill those!” Molly hovered as her son walked away. She seemed obviously very nervous, she would never allow drinks upstairs anywhere - other than perhaps the bath tub or the sink. Hot chocolate was a killer to remove from white linen sheets.

  
“Yes mum alright.” The mugs shook and tapped against each other as Ron climbed the stairs. Spillage was inevitable and so a small puddle formed in the tray and chocolate began to dry on the side of the mugs. “Harry, open the door.” Ron tapped the bottom of the door lightly in effort to ensure that no more left the cups. Harry’s ears perked up and he rushed to the door.

  
“Let me...” Harry tried to hold onto the bottom of the tray and take over the job from Ron. Ron turned sideways and Harry’s hands pulled away.

  
“What's all this?” Harry had stripped the beds of the blankets and pillows. They were all arranged in a small clutch on the floor.

  
“I thought we could sit there and talk.” Harry had worked hard and Ron could tell that Harry had formed a little bit of a sweat. Ron thought it was sweet, almost like what they used to do in the common room late at night when neither of them could sleep.

  
“All we do is talk, but alright. Got something on your mind?” Ron slid the tray onto his bedside table and carefully picked up each mug, steadily lifting them over to Harry. “No marshmallows, like how you like it.” Harry took the mug with both hands. The heat from the mug warming his fingers to the tip. That is until his hands were no longer warm but incredibly hot!

  
“Ahh!” Harry rubbed his hand on his pyjama bottoms and held the mug away from him trying not to let the hairs on his knuckles brisk over the surface of the cup.

  
“You alright?” Ron grabbed Harry’s hand to inspect it for any damage. Harry’s palms were red and sticky but not burnt. Ron blew on Harry’s hand gently, Harry just watched as Ron worked, he found it weird that Ron was making such a big deal out of nothing but on the other half of his mind he found it endearing. Nobody fussed over him.

  
“Yeah, it's only some hot chocolate. I've touched cauldrons hotter than this.” Ron coughed nervously and dropped Harry’s hand bashfully. “Lets just sit.” Harry felt the air thicken and avoided eye contact.

  
“Right, right.” Ron and Harry sat opposite each other on the floor not entirely wanting to make any form of physical contact with each other. Neither of them said anything for several heavy movements. Instead both boys stared down at their drinks cooling them the best they could. Ron's eyes gazed up from the horizon of the porcelain. Harry wasn't looking up. He had to break the silence.

“What about the next challenge?” Harry’s head shot up.

  
“Don't even get me started. The thing’s a bloody nightmare. I don't think I'll ever figure it out until I'm there face-to-to-face with whatever they've got.” Harry had no idea how he was going to work out the clue, he'd tried and he'd even asked Hermione to do some research but even she didn't know what to do. There wouldn't be much hope of him succeeding in this challenge, yet things always mysteriously worked out in the end so Harry hadn't been taking things as seriously as he should.

  
“Blimey Harry. Ever thought of asking Cedric for help?” Ron had no clue and wasn't in any position to be giving Harry any advice and he'd kept to that so far and luckily Harry hasn't asked for any help.

  
“You know that that we aren't allowed to do that. I might have to anyway, what can they do really? I wasn't meant to be there anyway. Kick me out if they want, I'll get back to having a semi-semi-normal year.” Harry’s voice was riddled with sarcasm. Ron smiled slightly at the blasphemy, as if it would ever be a normal year at Hogwarts.

  
“When is it ever going to be a ‘normal’ year for us?” Ron took a brave sip of his cocoa now that the marshmallows had fully melted across the top forming a sweet milky layer.

  
“I guess this year, for you, is a little more relaxed than last year. What with having a werewolf for a teacher and being mauled by Sirius.” Ron almost choked on his drink as a familiar stabbing sensation ran up his leg.

  
“Maybe, this one's still pretty weird. As school goes.” Harry raised a brow.

  
“How comes? Hermione giving you grief?” Sighing, Ron shook his head.

  
“No, she and Viktor are getting along and I've got no problem with that.” Harry tilted his head, trying to call out Ron's bluff. Instead Ron didn't defend himself, “Just got a lot on my mind.” Ron watched as Harry drank nonchalantly. Harry exhaled heavily, his breath hot, he could feel his bodily temperature rising from the tip of his toes to his chest.

  
“You do? I'm here you know, offload if you want.” Ron remembered what his brother had told him earlier on in the night.

  
“You betterget your feelings straight before you tell him, this is the type of thing that can break a friendship.” Charlie had stared into his eyes, he remembered the uncomfortable tug in the pit of his stomach. “You can't leave him too long, he's a good looking boy. Someone will snap him up.”

  
“I will. Not now.” Ron could feel his brother glaring at him, despite not being close, his brother had told him to at least talk about his sexuality rather than just hazing over the situation. His brother would have been disappointed. Harry picked up on his friend’s sullen face.

  
“Forget I asked.” Harry paused to catch Ron’s reaction, “think you'll pass potions this year?” Harry changed the situation drastically.  
Ron scoffed, “Yeah right.”


	9. Chapter 9

This time nobody was there to kick the boys awake. It was a perfect morning underneath the warm blankets, a slight heat rose from the wooden floorboards which kept both Ron and Harry lulled in a deep sleep. Ron was trapped in a dream and Harry was dribbling uncontrollably onto his pillow, neither if them seemed at all interested in waking before lunch - not that Molly would allow them to.

  
Hard and heavy footsteps trudged up the stairs. Unmistakeably, the footfalls were filled with anger. They grew closer and closer although the boys were oblivious to their presence that is until the person stormed into the bedroom. Each step made Ron's eyes twitch until eventually the soles stopped moving. The figure towered over Ron creating a shadow from the morning sunlight. Eyes barely open, glued shut with crust, Ron gazed up expecting to see his mother. Instead Hermione’s sharp features glared down at him. At first he took no notice, still being dreadfully unaware. After a slow double take, his eyes shot open. He scrambled for the duvet in order to hide his morningly manly reflex.

  
“Why is it that whenever I come to see you, you're both asleep!?” Hermione cried out, hands on hips disapprovingly. Ron kicked Harry from under the blanket to save him a harsh slap round the head.

  
“Mnn?” Harry groaned out, eyes still firmly shut out of protest. Ron just kicked him again, this time slightly harder. “What Ron?” Harry proped himself up with his arms shivering under the unfamiliar dead weight. Once sat up, Harry looked around, one eye open. He'd caught Hermione out of the corner of his eye, his neck bent backwards, rather confused.

  
“Nice to see you too!” Hermione flicked Harry’s right ear, it took a lot of reservation to not hit them both, after all she was a lady (she tried to remind herself).

  
“When did you get here?” Harry licked his lips, the moisture was absorbed instantly so he licked them again.

  
“Just now. Your mum said she'd cook you something if you come down.” Ron yawned and stretched out his arms, the tufts of ginger hair under his armpits were flatten with sweat. Ron couldn't help but check to see if he smelt, “charming.” Hermione cringed as she watched Ron shove his nose under his arms.

  
“Brilliant. You think you could give us a minute?” Ron coughed.

  
“Oh...well I'll be downstairs.” Hermione left it at that and followed her path back downstairs. Ron collapsed backwards and rubbed his eyes exhaustedly.

  
“We’d better go down before she kills us.” Ron exhaled, “might want to wash a little first.” Ron slowly came back up and this time to his feet. He stretched upwards, his shirt riding up his stomach as he furthered towards the ceiling, exposing his stomach. Harry rubbed the corner of his mouth and his left cheek harshly, trying to clear away the dried saliva.

  
“What time is it?” Harry felt like he'd gotten barely any sleep, his eyes failed to remain open despite his burning will power.

  
“Dunno, early I expect.” Ron shrugged, lending a hand to Harry, who seemed to be struggling to make the journey from the warmth of the floor to his feet. Harry tookthe offer and heavily rose to his feet. The sudden movement made his head pound and his vision grew blurry. Although it wasn't intended, Harry collapsed forward onto Ron, the other gripped him tightly. Harry waited in Ron's embrace until his brain stopped throbbing. “You alright?” Ron couldn't help but run his hand over Harry’s head, feeling the sillyness of his hair, trying to soothe him gently.

  
“Head rush.” Harry ignored Ron's actions as an act of kindness, he had afterall, put Ron in an awkward position. Whilst his vision cleared and the thumping stopped, Harry pushed himself off of Ron's chest.

  
Meanwhile downstairs, Molly had prepared Hermione and Ginny a fresh batch of cookies, the two were picking them up by the dozen. The two girls had stopped to chat about the ball a few days ago. Hermione had questioned Ginny’s choice for a date, seeing that Nevil didn't really appear to be a first choice.

  
“Well, he's kind of sweet, y’know. He asked me and I didn't have anybody to go with.” Ginny tried to defend her decision but Hermione wasn't insinuating anything wrong with dating Nevil. Instead Hermione just laughed, “What about you and Viktor? You turned a few heads.” Ginny smirked. smirkede began to blush.

  
“A girl can't say ‘no’ when Viktor Krum comes knocking at her door.” The two couldn't help but double over like the giggling school girls they were.

  
“I think Ron was a little shocked.” Ginny broke the laughter. Hermione scratched her scalp anxiously.

  
“I think he was expecting me to go with him, that we would both be dateless and lump it together. So it's understandable that he'd be shocked.” Hermione had remembered yelling at Ron on the night of the ball after his hurtful things he had said about Viktor. It was all seemingly fresh in her mind, Ron had made her cry that night and the two had been on edge for ages afterwards. Ron had been fine all the way up untilthe end of the night when he suddenly flipped in the common room, he had obviously been out of character.

  
“What'd you and Harry get up to after we left?” Hermione was twirling her dress in extacy. He eyes twinkled with bliss. She'd been back in the common room for a while now but she resented the idea of talking off her dress.

  
“Nothing, just danced really, then walked for a bit. He's gone to rest a little.” Ron thought that Hermione looked beautiful, seeing her walking down the stairs and meeting Viktor at the bottom had enraged him. Looking her in the eyes felt like something he couldn't do.

  
“What's up with you?” Hermione had noticed that Ron was avoiding her glances by turning his head and looking at the floor. Hermione’s smile sank a little.

  
“Nothing. I should head back. It's late.” Ron was overall disappointed, he'd been happy all night but seeing Hermione had brought back the hurt he'd felt earlier on in the night. Ron kept his head to the ground and turned back.

  
“It's not good to sleep in a bad mood.” Hermione expected an answer, being the motherly person she was, the general wellbeing of her friends was important to her, even if that wasn't apparent one hundred percent of the time. “Maybe its something I can help you with?”

  
“Doubt it. Just forget it ‘Mione.” Ron continued to walk on. Hermione huffed loudly, she had been confused as to why Ron was being shady with her and she'd remembered where she'd seen Ron's pure agonising look.

  
“Is this about Viktor?” Her words rang in the air. Ron stopped moving, he stood in place and shook his head. “Well? Is it?” She demanded, her voice stern and slightly toned with anger.

  
“What can I say? He's slimey.” Ron was careful not to raise his voice, most of the house were already asleep. Instead his eyes sent daggers of hatred that his voice could not muster. Hermione crooked her neck backwards in surprise. Her face quickly turned to sadness.

  
“Slimey? Who was it wanting his autograph?” Hermione bit out.

  
“He'sjust going to use you. Besides he's too old -” Ron felt as if he was protecting Hermione, looking out for her intentions but really, he had no idea what was best, he had no right to try and meddle with Hermione’s relationships.

  
“Too old? I'm perfectly capable of looking out for myself.” She threw herself into the large armchair in front of the fireplace. She held her head in her hands, she felt enraged but it didn't seem worth an argument.

  
“Clearly, just making sure you know what you're doing.” Ron waited for Hermione to answer but she remained silent, she wasn't going to let Ron spoil her evening. Instead she waited for him to leave the room before getting up herself. For a few brief moments she stood next to the fire and she basked in the heat. She took a deep breath and bit down on her bottom lip so that the tears welling in her eyes didn't fall. She was a strong and independent woman, she had no time for Ron's pettiness. Instead she wished to remember the night as it was, full of glee and dancing.

  
“I think he likes you. He talks about you a lot. So he's probably jealous.” Ginny had been dreadfully blunt. Hermione was stunned, she would have never guessed that Ron could have liked her, as far as she knew, they barely got along.

  
“Really? Since whe-” Both Harry and Ron came into the room, Hermione refrained from mentioning anymore. Whether it was true or not, this was not something that should be approached hastily.

  
“What you two yabbering on about?” Ron asked, noticing the sudden silence that swept the room. Ginny and Hermione looked at each other but neither of them said anything. “Never mind, probably boys.” Hermione looked down at her reflection in the liquid in her cup. Ginny faked a smile to distract her brother from Hermione’s sullen face.

  
“Goodness you two, thought you'd never get up!” Molly raised a brow at her son, disappointed that he hadn't made an effort to welcome Hermione.

  
“Guess we were tired.” Ron shrugged. Harry simply nodded along, still hopelessly lost.

  
“Don't make excuses Ronald Weasley. Now sit down, the both of you.” The two sat downwithout question. Molly was already making them something to eat.

  
“So, how was your Christmas?” Hermione suppressed her struggles and put on a brave face she would have to wait to be alone to think about things in the way she usually does; through intensive reading and compiling lists.

  
“Great, Charlie came down for dinner.” Harry began to perk up as the smell of slightly burning bacon lit his nostril hairs on fire and the sizzle from the sausages made his eyes water. He hadn't woken up hungry like usual, instead, the smell put him off.

  
“Yeah it was brilliant. Harry got a new broom, show her Harry.” Harry sluggishly pushed his chair bacl and got up. He was glad to be ducking out of the kitchen, even for a split second to grab his new broom.

  
“There was no name attached but I knew who it was from anyway.” Harry held the broom proudly by his side, although he was on the short side, he still stood past the height of the broom. He still marveled in its beauty.

  
“Sirius?” Harry nodded cheerfully, “it really is a head turner. I'm sure Draco will be jealous.” Hermione didn't find much interest in the sport but seemed enthusiastic about the gift either way. To her, quidditch was as similarly overrated as muggle football, of which her father was goo-goo eyed for.

  
“Oh yeah, I'm sure not even Lucius would have been able to get it that quick, its only been out for like two weeks.” Harry could only envision Draco’s dopey face glaring at him from across the pitch, in which Harry simply stood grinning ear to ear. That's not why he loved the broom so much, but he'd be lying if it wasn't a contributing factor.

  
“Not a chance.” Ron added, the secondary smugness taking over.

  
“What did you do yesterday Hermione?” Harry, dipped out of the room and returned without the broom. Hermione slapped her thighs as she tried to mentally sum up her Christmas day.

  
“Well,” Hermione smiled, “I spent the whole day my family, having a relatively normal Christmas. Playing silly games and gathering around the tree in the morning to open our presents.” Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had play pass-the-parcel or sung Christmas karaoke. It was a blessing to have such normality after a particularly stressful term.

  
“Sounds decent. Bet you got lots?” Ron had always insinuated that Hermione came from a rich background - he wasn't incorrect. Dentists are highly paid but their family didn't focus on materialistic possessions, instead, they would save money to go on holidays and trips. Hermione rolled her eyes.

  
“Not particularly, no. I got what I wanted and I received the mince pies and the lemon meringue. My nan would like your recipe.” Hermione turned to Molly, the meringue hadn't lasted more than ten minutes.

  
“Oh I'm delighted. Remind me before you leave and I'll give you the recipe.” Two plates drifted from the clean pile on the drainer to the table, each landing in front of Harry and Ron. Molly turned off the stove and began to scrape the contents of the frying pan onto the plates, giving Harry a cheeky extra sausage.

  
“Anyone would think YOU were her son.” Ron took a fork from the centre of the table and started eating. Molly slapped him playfully around the back of his head.

  
“He is my son, aren't you Harry?” Molly winked at Harry, whenever she could, she'd give Harry extra to fill him out a little even if he was only staying a few days. Molly already knew that her son was a lump of a boy and he didn't really need the extra sausage.

  
“Oh yeah, of course.” Harry pricked the sausage and pulled it off onto Ron’s plate.

  
“You're lucky to have a friend like Harry. He'd give you is last meal if you were still hungry. You'd better appreciate him.” Both brows raised and the finger came out, Ron gulped. Harry tossed about the rest of his food, not really feeling like eating.

  
“You should eat Harry. You like bacon.” Hermione watched Harry fuss and pick at his food. Harry was a picky eater but Molly knew Harry’s do’s and don'ts and only gave him what he'd eat.

  
“I'm not hungry. I'll eat later.” Harry left the cutlery on the plate and sat back in his chair. Hermione glared at him disapprovingly. Harry tried his best to ignore her.

  
“Harry dear, would you like some toast instead?” Molly didn't like the idea of Harry going hungry all day, not that there wouldn't be lots on offer through out the day, but breakfast was more important than fruit cake.

  
“No, really I'm fine. Here you go Ron.” Harry pushed his plate towards Ron.

  
“Harry, you need to eat. At least have a sausage, for me?” Molly felt a pang of pride, she knew she'd raised Ron right, his caring nature was something that seemed missing from some of the other Weasley children. Since Molly hlad cottoned on, it warmed her heart knowing that Ron would be a good boyfriend - she wouldn't have to worry.

  
“I don't want anything. You have it Ron. It'll go to waste otherwise.” Harry wasn't his usual sarcastic self which worried Ron somewhat.

  
“You're not ill are you?” Everybody had lent in waiting for Harry to answer, each concerned.

  
“No, I'm just not hungry. I'll probably regret it later but I'm not hungry.” It was best not pester and so nobody questioned Harry again. Instead, Ron put Harry’s plate in the fridge, he wasn't going to eat Harry’s breakfast when he might want it later on.

  
The day only went down hill from there, by mid-day Harry was resting on the sofa with a blanket and hot water bottle nestled closely to his chest. Only yesterday, he'd felt completely fine and rejoiced. Yet now, only 12 hours later, he felt like garbage. Molly had added more wood to the fireplace once Harry had been overthrown with violent shivers, only to have a fever at the same time.  
Ron was hovering the entire time, constantly asking if Harry wanted something, anything, to make himself feel useful. Molly kept smacking him away telling him that Harry wouldn't get any better if he kept waking him up. He knew that she was right but he really couldn't help it. Hermione was trying to get Harry to eat, helping Molly in the kitchen make some chicken soup. Harry had drank the soup alongside half a slice of bread. It wasn't much and it took a great deal of pestering to get Harry to eat.

  
“Want a wet cloth?” Ron had his hands in his pockets and approached Harry gingerly with a soft tone. He'd already been lectured by Molly, but she had told him nothing about talking to Harry when he was awake.

  
“No. I'm okay.” Harry looked incredibly pale, his dark mess of hair had become greasy with sweat and stuck to his forehead.

  
“You're not, you're sick. We shouldn't have slept on the floor, it's deadly cold at night.” Ron felt guilty for not thinking and being lured into the memories. He should have known that it wasn't the best idea at this stage in winter.

  
“It's probably not the floor, it was bound to happen, I've been stressed lately and barely scrapped not being ill during school.” Ron could understand, having contributed to some of Harry’s stress. As if a cold breeze has swept in from an open window, Harry shivered and his teeth chattered. Harry pulled the blanket up further over his chin.

  
“I'll make you a hot cup of tea.” Harry had a table full of half drunken cups of cocoa and cups of tea. He always waited until the drink cooled but more often than not, completely forgotten about them. He did this even when he wasn't ill.

  
“Hey-” Harry called quietly, “have you given Hermione her gift?” Harry attempted to sit up a little and Ron rushed to pull him back down, whispering ‘rest’ straight into his ear. The single word sent ripples down his spine.

  
“I was waiting for you, it's from both of us afterall.” Ron had thought about giving the gift earlier when Hermione had hinted at it but he didn't, not without Harry.

  
“Give it to her Ron. You might score some brownie points.” Ron's heart sunk a little and once again Charlie's words bounced around his head, Harry didn't know and Ron wasn't ready for him to know but if flirting with Hermione was expected, then he wouldn't be able to hold up the charade.

  
“Later.” Ron walked out of the room and towards the kitchen where Molly and Hermione sat at the table. He sighed heavily before filling the kettle and popping it onto the stove. It'd only been a little while since the kettle was last used so the water would warm quicker.

  
“How is he?” It'd been half an hour since she'd last poked her head round the door, at that time Harry had been fast asleep and snoring. She'd checked his forehead and he was still burning. She left him to sleep for a little longer.

  
“Alright. I guess.” Molly nodded and continued to scan the newspaper in her hands. The house was incredibly quiet which Molly didn't like, Arthur had taken the boys out to Diagon Alley to spend the Christmas money they'd gotten yesterday, with stern warning to not buy fireworks or explosives..

  
“He won't drink this one like the last few.” Hermione was tired of squeezing tea bags and mixing sugar. They only went to waste and the milk was running low.

  
“I'm gonna sit in there wiv ‘im to make sure he does. Keep ‘im company.” It was only four o'clock in the afternoon but Ron was suffering from major heart ache. Watching Harry shiver and cough was a little painful.

  
“We should both be there. I can read him a book, I got this really great novel from my Auntie yesterday about drafting-” Hermione was cut short.

  
“No offence ‘Mione but the last thing Harry needs it to hear a book about potions.” The kettle piercingly whistled on the stove and the funnel cap chattered. Ron lifted the kettle and poured the water on the tea bag. He ritualisticaly stirred and put in the milk. He placed the spoon on the cow shaped dish that was already sticky.

  
“I suppose you're right. Perhaps I should go and talk to Ginny.” This wasn't the boxing day she'd hoped for but it was hardly something she could control but it didn't leave her feeling any less disappointed.

  
“I was hoping that you'd help me in the kitchen, Ron is useless, you see.” Molly knew that Ron wanted to be alone with Harry, to make him feel better. So she asked for Hermione’s help to whip up some brownies, nothing cured the flu like chocolate.

  
“Oh course. I'd be more than happy to.” Molly proceeded to get the pots and bowls out of the cupboard above her head. It seemedlike all she did the last few days was cook - not that she minded of course.

  
“Thank you dear. Run along Ronald.” Molly hurried her son along.

  
“I've got your tea...” Ron approached closer when Harry didn't reply. From a distance he hadn't seen Harry's eyes drawn shut. This time the boy wasn't snoring but sleeping peacefully. Ron carefully placed the cup next to the four others, trying not to make a sound. Ron took it upon himself to check Harry’s temperature, with the back of his hand he lightly pressed against Harry’s forehead. The poor boy was still seriously hot and it seemed Molly’s charms hadn't put much of a dent in his condition. Ron felt Harry’s cheeks, they were flushed red rather than a pale like before. Harry’s cheeks were warm, but so was Ron's hand. He knew it wasn't an accurate measure.

  
Ron hovered above Harry’s face momentarily, kneeling down next to him as Harry slept. Ron had only ever watched Harry sleep once on the train to Hogwarts last Christmas, even then his cheeks flooded a rouge then, so it must have been a normal thing. Normally it was babies who went red when they slept, which made Harry appear delicate and cute. Not that Ron would ever say those words beyond the confines of his mind. Gazing down at Harry’s face eased the throbbing in his chest.

  
Ron still couldn't be sure about what he wanted from Harry or whether he really had fallen for his best mate but all he knew was that what he was feeling wasn't usual and shouldn't be dismissed as heartburn. He didn't know much aboutromance, he'd never seen a romantic film or read a romantic book, the only insight he had was the overheard whispers of girls in the common room, saying how their new crush kept them sleepless and they had constant flutters. Yet, Ron had always assumed that he liked girls, he liked Hermione and he'd had a small crush on his teacher in primary school but neither were the same as to what he was experiencing now. Was he gay, he wasn't quite sure. OR was it just Harry - did he only have feelings for one male in particular?  
Ron was sure that Harry would woken up by now, whilst being lost in his thoughts he'd come progressively closer to Harry’s face - so close that his warm breath was renouncing off of Harry’s skin. He wasn't sure why he'd come this close only that a raw urge was controlling him, forcibly pushing him forward. Not that he felt any inclination to withdraw and overthrow the urge. His eyes closed, beyond his control and fate took over.  
His plump lips perched slightly as they softly approached Harry’s, the heat from Harry’s mouth making his lips moist. Their lips touched, Ron instantly felt the need to pull back, but he knew he was no longer in control of his actions and he gently deepened the kiss. Harry was still asleep, blissfully unaware. Ron's head exploded, like Fred had set off a firecracker close to his face, then all went silent, his mind ceased to think, to care, to know. The state was euphoric, the subtle feel of Harry’s lips underneath his felt right, so much so that even the racing of his pulse slowed and the world around him fell away.

  
That is until a sudden loud sound broke the moment, somebody had dropped a dish and it had bounced on the floor. Ron opened his eyes, the lingering happiness remained and he rested his forehead on Harry’s. Whilst the kiss was brief and unreciprecated, Ron couldn't help but imagine it being mutual and a sense of longing quickly replaced the euphoria. Harry’s eues rolled under his eyelids and Ron took that as an indication that he should quickly pull away. Luckily he had because Harry soon awoke.

  
“What was that?” Harry felt startled and sat up, searching the room for answers. Whilst he wasn't aware of what had happened, he knew that something had, he'd filled with an unknown emptiness all of a sudden that broke his sleepiness.

  
“What?” Ron made the smart decision to keep what had happened quiet. Whilst he so desperately wanted to pull Harry in and divulge in his lips again, he knew that now wasn't the right time. He wondered for a split moment if any time would be appropriate.

  
“I dunno, something. Was I asleep?” Harry couldn't remember falling asleep at all, he must have drifted off whilst dozing.

  
“Yeah, did you have a bad dream?” Ron managed a small smile as Harry began to settle back into his bed on the sofa.

  
“No... No. It wasn't a bad dream, or a dream at all. I think...” Harry had felt Ron's soft embrace and he'd unconsciously lulled into it, without knowing entirely what it was, only that it brought with it an overwhelming peacefulness.

  
“Right? You feeling any better?” Harry nodded lightly, admittedly, he was. He was hungry even, but he still felt extremely tired and extremely cold.

  
“Mum’s making brownies. Suppose you're not hungry yet?” Ron handed Harry over the cup of tea, seeing as it was still hot, but not overly hot.

  
“I am... I'm just not ready to get up.” Harry yawned loudly. Ron was glad that Harry had gotten his appetite back, it was proving to be a slow process back to normal. Ron was prepared to look after Harry for as long as it took.

  
“I'll go get you something. Just stay in bed.” Harry hated being the focus of attention, he just wanted to get up and remove the burden on everybody else.

  
“Thanks...Ron.” Harry sat back again and pulled the blanket back, he knew that he was in no state to be getting up and only doing so would cause people to flitter around him like a dead man walking. Ron just gave Harry a reassuring grin and left the room again.  
Harry had eaten, although he mainly picked at his food, he managed to eat two cold sausages and a slither of bacon from what he'd left earlier on in the morning. Molly had tried to get him to eat more, she even resorted to tempting him with brownies but the very thought of sickly chocolate made his stomach churn and his mouth dry. There wasn't much chance of him eating anything for dinner despite Molly serving up the leftovers from yesterday's feast. Harry was still incredibly tired but he forced himself to sit up rather than give in to the temptation, he was firmly wrapped in his blanket up to the neck.

  
“Ron didn't want to give you your gift while I was asleep, so we'd better give it to you now before I crook my neck and fall asleep right here, right now.” Harry smiled wearily, knowing that the possibility of falling asleep was very likely.

  
“You two didn't really have to get me anything you know.” Hermione felt flattered but somewhat sceptical, given the terrible history of dodgy christmas gifts and irksome birthday presents. She wasn't expecting much from either of them.

  
“Yes we did. If we didn't, you would have eaten us.” Ron had brought the gift down earlier that day and slyly left it under the tree. He quickly ran to grab it.

  
“Quite possibly.” She would have been utterly heartbroken if she'd not been given anything from her best friends.

  
“Here-” Ron handed Hermione the box, she cautiously felt its weight and gently shook it, “don't trust us?” Hermione could hardly form a basis of faith. She still wasn't completely satisfied that something wasn't going to pop out but she proceeded to untie the bow. She quickly glanced at the label attached to the box, not recognising the name of the store or its logo. Once the lid of the box was free she took a deep breath and slowly opened the box.

  
“You'll like it, I promise.” Harry coughed out.

  
“Mnn?” Hermione peeled back the tissue paper to reveal beneath a layer of velvet cloth, at first she was confused, thinking that the cloth was a facade and something utterly barbaric lay underneath. Instead she pulled out the velvet and the dress unfolded. “A dress?” Hermione held it up in the air in front of herself.

  
“You don't like it? We can take it back.” Ron exhanexchanged a worrying glance with Harry who seemed to be similarly on edge.

  
“No, I love it. It's just not what I expected from you both.” She stood up and checked its length and fittings, it wasn't something that she would have picked but sshe was seemingly impressed, the boys had managed to get something as beautiful as they had.

  
“The lady in the shop said you would.” Ron shifted the blame as he watched Hermione evaluate the tiniest of detail. Ron's unease faded as Hermione’s smile grew, the more she looked, the more she liked. She wanted to put the dress on already, not only was the silhouette flattering but the fabric would feel angelic against her skin.

  
“Its beautiful.” Hermione reluctantly began to pack the dress away, “I'll be expecting something twice as nice next year. You've raised the bar, you can't just buy any old thing.” Harry smiled genuinely but weakly. Hermione kept the folded dress in her hands feeling and running her fingers over the silkieness, it was soothing.

  
“Damn.” Ron complained cheekily. The way the group gelled brought Harry’s mood up dramatically but didn't reduce his tiredness, although it had become more manageable. Instead, he'd decided that it would be better to sleep when the time came around to it so that he slept the night through. The Weasleys didn't have a TV but they had a radio and it felt appropriate that listening to the annual Christmas songs was the best way to fill the time until Arthur returned and all hell broke loose.

  
The night went by, very much eventful. Of course Arthur hadn't been able to stop Fred and George spending their money on firecrackers, Molly had been fuming when Fred had lit one during flu travel, it has fizzled and ricocheted off of the ceiling making a rather dramatic entrance. Molly had confiscated them, willing to give them back if the twins helped out with dinner. Begrudgingly they accepted her terms with high hopes of playing firebomb quidditch in the yard.

  
It'd barely turned 7 when Harry finally fell back to sleep, luckily they'd migrated up to the attic so that nobody would have to carry Harry up the stairs. Not much really happened passed that point, Hermione got ready for bed and retired to Ginny's room for some much needed girly chatter. Ron remained silent but grabbed a piece of parchment and his quil from his luggage, he wanted to write to Charlie about what he should do about his perplexing issue.  
He wrote:

  
_Charlie, it's me, Ron._  
_You got home alright? Can't say that my situation at home is any better, I'm too afraid confused about what to do. You told me to tell Harry that I was gay... but am I? I dunno. Bloody hell, is it frustrating. I can't just tell him, it'd freak him out, y’ know? You've been through it, how'd you manage, was it easy? Harry isn't against gays or anything but he's my best mate, won't he be put off? Never mind, I'm just not sure what to do. Help._  
_Cheers._

  
Ron read over his note, it was a poor excuse for a note but he knew his brother would make sense of it anyhow. Ron sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it back away from his face. After careful contemplation, he finally decided to in fact send the letter. He rolled the parchment up and tied it with some string. Ron stood at the window, quietly cooing and calling for his dopey bird. Of course, Pigwigeon made an inelegant entrance, squawking and flapping his wings against the window frame. Once the letter was tightly placed, the bird took off in search for Charlie.

  
Ron wasn't ready to sleep as of yet so he lay silently, eyes fixated on the white and stained ceiling above himself. He did this, mind absent, for an hour before he got up to shower. In the shower, his mind was still blank, he was thankful, his mind had been busy for a while now with very little rest. By the time Ron was tired enough, he'd written the opening conclusion to a potions essay (deciding that he knew too little to write the rest) and he'd organised pile of clothes to give to Harry that no longer fit him. He hoped that Harry would be feeling better by the time morning came about. At 12, he pulled up the duvet and closed his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

The next few days were practically uneventful as nothing really seemed to happen, Harry had been ill for the following days, he hadn't managed to hold anything down and his head hurt vigorously constantly. He had wondered when the period would end, Molly had told Arthur to pick up some health potions to try and get rid of the flu and it seemed to be working. Harry was just grateful that he'd been ill now rather than later and miss out on more schooling.  
Today was new years eve, Harry was determined not to let his immune system get the better of him like it had been. Once he'd taken the replenishing potion and the anti - nausea potion, he got out of bed slowly, his head throbbed as he stood when all of the blood rushed from his numbing backside, to his head.

  
Harry thought it was best to get up and head downstairs for breakfast rather than waiting for Ron to bring him up some toast. He'd surprised everyone when he appeared in the doorway.

  
“Harry dear! Goodness, what are you doing out of bed?” Molly squealed, she was ready to march Harry back upstairs.

  
“Honestly I'm fine, really.” For the first time in the last four days he'd felt genuinely better, he even managed to smile. Harry had regained some colour in his cheeks and he was no longer running a fever, Molly was pleased that he was making a recovery.

  
“You still look lile shit though mate.” Fred teased, it wasn't a secret, Harry did. Nobody cared to say anything after the ordeal he'd been through. Even he had held back, not saying what he truly thought, Harry didn’t just look terrible, he smelt terrible too but Harry already knew that.

  
“Leave off.” Ron sighed. The last few days had been quite emotionally tiring for him too, he'd been up with Harry whilst he'd been violently sick - whilst withholding his own gag reflexes. He'd also walk Harry to the toilet and helped him get dressed and undressed. Hermione had asked to help but Ron had insisted that Harry only wanted Ron. Hermione had later gone home to spend the rest of her time with her family.

  
“Do you want a spot of breakfast dear?” Harry nodded eagerly, he'd woken up with a growl in his stomach and it was a sign of improvement. Yesterday morning he'd slept in until 3 and only woke when Ron gave him a foot rub, it was quite counter productive because as soon as Harry woke he'd felt nauseated. Molly’s eyes gleamed as she began to ponder over what to feed Harry. “I have some fruit loaf, it'd be good for you.”

Molly took the lid off of the cake stand and began to slice the loaf, “I've never had any before...” Harry was a little sceptical seeing as he wasn't big on fruit.

  
“Oh no, it's really nice toasted.” Ron reassured. Harry was still slightly on edge as Molly placed the bread in the toaster.

  
“You'll have to make your own Ronald Weasley, I'm not your house elf.” Ron rolled his eyes, he hadn't even asked for any. Harry giggled a little at his friend's misfortune.

  
“Gee thanks. Harry I thought that it would be a good idea to get some fresh air. Now that your better. It'll help.” Harry had been bedridden and cooped up inside the house, missing out on the snow.

  
“As long as you dress up nice and warm - hats, gloves and scarves.” Molly pointed the butter knife in Ron's direction. Ron already knew that Harry needed the extra layers, he wasn't as obvious as he seemed. Luckily Harry had just the right equipment, his new jumper and his gloves. “Don't be out too long either, Harry shouldn't exhaust himself.” Molly spread the butter on the slices and carried the plate over.

  
“Where do you expect to be heading off to then?” Arthur perked up from his newspaper. The Daily Profit had already been delivered but the family were still waiting patiently for their mail.

  
“Just around.” Ron hadn't really thought about where they would go but he was just yearning to leave the confines of the house. Even a long walk in the yard would be sufficient.

  
“Ah, right. Don't wonder off too far.” Harry seemed to be loving the fruit loaf, sultanas and raisins were disgusting but when baked in sweet bread they weren't chewy or sharp tasting, in fact the toast was sweet yet somehow still savory.

  
“You ate that quickly! Want some more?” Molly knew best, the bread would give Harry a little bit of a boost due to the high sugar content and carbohydrates. Not only that, comfort food is best when you're down.

  
“No thanks, I need a shower.” Harry pushed his plate to the side before Molly decided to make him some more and he'd have to reluctantly eat it whilst people held their noses.

  
“Ron, go and grab Harry a warm towel from the boiler cupboard. I'll turn on the hot water.” Molly had refused to upgrade her heating system claiming that she loved warm towels and that the boiler kept the house warm. That and she didn't have the money to change, other wizards and witches were beginning to adopt new muggle methods of household heating. Ron and Harry both got up and headed up stairs.

  
“There's some nice bubble bath here, if you're into that kind of thing.” Ron grabbed a fresh crisp towel from the shelf above the boiler and hung it over the rack next to the bath, “you know how bleeding temperamental this thing is.” Ron began to run the taps as if Harry hadn't ever bathed before. He checked the temperature with his fingers and flinched at the excruciating heat.

  
“Here, I've got it Ron.” Harry turned the cold tap a little further to the right and finally the water got to a batheable warmth. Harry dropped the plug into its hole and the water began to fill the tub. Harry wanted the bubbles but had decided against it whilst Ron was still in the room.

  
“Right, I'll leave you to it.” Ron lowered his head and causally strolled out of the room.

  
“Mnn..” Harry muttered. He wasn't used to taking bubble baths, at school he'd only have time to shower and when he went home to the Dursleys they'd tell him off if he ever tried to fill up a bath, claiming that it was a waste of money and that he should shower instead with a very tight restriction of five simple minutes in other words - get in and get out. Harrydidn't really know where to begin only that he unscrewed the bottle of bubble bath and smelt it. It smelt great, of coconut and passion fruit, each sent distinctive.

Unknowing the right amount to use, he tipped the bottle and the contents drained into the water.

  
Immediately the pressure of the tap created thick and foamy bubbles. It had become obvious that he'd put too much in when the water was no longer visible under a thick blanket. He waited patiently, watching the slow and steady rise of the volume. Once at a satisfactory height he turned off the water and stripped off. A toe dipped in shyly testing how hot the water had gotten. Perfect. Harry slipped the rest of his body in.

  
Undeniably, the aroma and the warmth made his eyelids heavy. He refused to let the water get the better of him and so he got to work getting clean. Picking up the sponge that sat on the edge of the bath he began to scrub away at the dirt. The soap lathering on his skin was refreshing, once he'd finished he hunted for the shampoo, he found several bottles of conditioner but only to find shampoo at the side of the bath tub. Harry leaned over, the porcelain was cold under his armpits. Once Harry had washed his hair and rinsed it several times under the water he pulled the plug out. Harry stood and reached over for the towel, he scrubbed his face and then his limbs, leaving his intimate areas till last. He loosely wrapped himself in the towel and stepped out. That is when he had, he suddenly realised that he'd not gotten any clothes. He was so eager to get in that he'd been forgetful like usual and forgotten his clothes.

  
He stoppedand looked around the room for a moment, wondering what to do. He checked the boiler cupboard for anything to put on, nada. His face drained as the reality set in, he'd have to walk out in just his towel. He was doomed. Harry waited for a moment before braving the courage to put his ear to the door, listening to see if there was anything upstairs. Harry couldn't hear any voices and so slowly twisted open the handle and stepped out into the hallway. Ron's room was a few flights of stairs away but he could see it. His feet fell softly on each stair as he made his way. Finally he'd gotten to Ron's bedroom. He was safe. Harry opened the door and turned quickly to pull it shut behind himself so it wouldn't slam.

  
“Harry?” Ron spoke out. Harry jumped up, losing grip on the edges of the towel, only briefly but enough for the towel to drop down to the ground. Harry went bright red as a hand flew to his phallic area. “Woah!” Ron looked away sharply. He'd seen it, the entirety of it. Inside, he felt giddy and he so desperately wanted to smile but he refrained knowing how embarrassed Harry would be. Harry quickly picked the towel from the floor and wrapped himself up tightly.

  
“Forg-for forgot some clothes.” Harry stuttered nervously. He was humiliated, in front of the one person he cared for the most.

  
“Oh, erm...” Ron got up, still trying to avoid eye contact with Harry. He walked over to Harry’s trunk and pulled out a pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt. He cautiously walked them over to Harry. “I'll leave you to get dressed.” Ron leftthe room, once outside he exhaled deeply.

  
Harry didn't think it could have gone any worse, then he mentally slapped himself, it could have gone so much worse. His towel could have fallen off in front of Molly or Ginny, then he wouldn't have died of shame. Ron was the least worst scenario so Harry was glad it'd happen in front of Ron. Harry had seen Ron's a while back when Ron had accidentally drenched his boxers with the shower hose and Harry Had brought him a fresh pair. Ron had relieved them through a gap in the door which wasn't as closed as he would have liked. The two had laughed about it the entire night and spoke oddly about puberty.

  
Still. Harry was embarrassed, he wasn't as easy going as Ron and he frankly felt a little ashamed of what he had to show, he was only fourteen but he truthfully wondered when he'd hit a growth spirt like Ron did over the summer. Harry pulled out some boxers and put on what Ron had given him.

  
Ron had been waiting patiently outside the door and all the while, his mind was drifting, he couldn't help it, he wished he could. After seeing his friend and crush, exposed he was shocked. He'd never really thought about Harry in a sexual way before but he knew now that his unconscious mind would go rabid for what he'd just seen. Harry’s pale, peachy... Ron shook his head. He was getting sucked into the image again, he could feel his prick twinge a little, Ron knew that this was not the time or the place.

  
Harryhad gotten dressed and looked around for his jumper, Molly had washed it and hung it on the line, but he was sure that she'd brought it in this morning. Where, he didn't know. He hunted the room, he looked under the blankets on Ron's bed to find only a single piece of parchment and an envelope. Out of curiosity Harry unfolded the parchment. It read;

  
_Ron,_  
 _Stop being a pansy. Harry’s a great guy - from what you've told me. If you can't tell your best friend that you might be gay then you who can you bloody tell._

  
Harry’s eyes widened as he read, Ron, gay? There was no way, he liked Hermione. How could Ron be gay? Was Harry really that oblivious, that he'd completely missed any hints because he'd been too self involved? He read on;

  
_You're not going to scare him, he's part muggle, all muggles in London are gay, trust me. Just bring it up when you get a chance, don't leave it too late otherwise he'd feel untrustworthy. Even if you aren't sure... although it seems like you are, get it done before it's too late. He's too great a catch to pass up._  
 _Charlie._

  
Harry couldn't make much sense of what he had read. Only that his best friend was worried about being gay and from the looks of things Ron had a crush on somebody. He'd never seen Ron take interest in any other male, Harry’s mind began to jump to assumptions. He thought about how obsessed Ron was over Viktor until he paired up with Hermione, maybe that was it.

  
Harry snapped out of his delusions, he wouldn't make any more assumptions until Ron had told him about being gay, he wasn't feeling angry with Ron for not telling him, it was afterall a big life decision that would have to be carefully approached.

  
Knock knock.

  
“Are you done Harry?” Ron called out from the other side of the door. His legs were beginning to go numb from standing for so long.

  
“Yeah, yeah.” Harry folded the letter bacl up and slid it back under the sheet. As the door opened he stood and walked away from the bed. He wasn't going to tell Ron he'd seen the letter because clearly Ron wasn't ready for such conversations. Ron watched suspiciously as Harry walked away from his bed, he'd quickly hid it as Harry walked in.

  
“So you ready to go out? Figured we could take a walk around the farm? Nowhere's open, it's new year's eve.” Ron had read the letter and decided that if he could muster up the courage he'd tell Harry when they were far away from prying ears.

  
“Sounds great.” Harry continued to look for his jumper, of course it was hanging in the wardrobe,he felt silly for not checking there in the first place but Molly had originally placed a pile of clothes on Ron's bed. He was obviously made to put them all away.

  
“Yeah? Alright. Mum said to wrap up as much as you can.” Harry didn't have much of a coat but he did have plenty of underlayers that would gladly suffice. He unhooked his Bulgarian team scarf off of the handles of the wardrobe and grabbed Ron's whilst he was there.

  
“Cheers.” Ron took the scarf and wrapped it around his neck. Harry followed him closely, “your gloves? Aren't you gonna take ‘em?” Ron had noticed that Harry wasn't wearing his gloves when he really aught to.

  
“Oh, right.” Harry dashed up the few stairs back to Ron’s room, he lifted up his blanket, knowing that they were caught up in the sheet, he rustled it around and watched as the balled up gloves rolled onto the floor. Harry picked them up and held them in his hands, already with just minimal contact they were heating up. Harry hadn't really appreciated the gloves fully until now, they were a really thoughtful gift seeing as his hands were always cold. Harry unpicked the knot and put on his gloves. He quickly ran back to Ron.

  
“Don't you boys be out for too long otherwise Harry will catch a cold, his immune system is already running low.” Both Ron and Harry agreed to the terms, be back in two hours and at no point was Harry to remove anything.

  
The two boys headed out, Harry stopped in the doorway, everything past the welcome mat was snow. White stretched to the horizon, as far Harry could see, left and right. Already there were snow men sitting in their front garden. Harry walked over to the closest one and began poking the buttons for eyes.

  
“Percy, Fred and George helped Ginny make a snow man.” Ron had watched from the window. His mother had offered to look after Harry and Ron should go and join in but Ron had refused and simply continued to watch them roll the snow.

  
“Oh, I've never made one before. Got to a certain stage where I just didn't see the point.” Of course Harry had watched Dudley play in the snow with his friends, aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon thought playing in the snow was beneath them, even if it was with Dudley. Harry had wanted to join in and Dudley had always pleaded for Harry to help but they always said no. Jt was pretty soon when Dudley learned not to associate with Harry. Of course he missed out.

  
“No? Ermm well, here.” Ron took a handful of snow in each mit and squished them together. “You start off with this.” Ron handed Harry the lump of snow.

  
“Yeah?” Harry watched as Ron made his own.

  
“Then you kind of... roll it on the floor...” Ron began to roll his small lump around in the fallen snow at his feet, the once small ball was growing and growing in size the more he pushed it along. Harry copied Ron but his broke apart and crumbled. Ron watched with a gleaming smile on his face.

  
“Its not that easy!” Harry protested, clumping more snow together to begin again.

  
“Let me start it off.” Ron took the snow from Harry’s hands and rolled this one along the ground too. “Here. Just roll it.” Harry rolled the ball, patting it every so often to flatten the snow. He didn't want to show it but je was beginning to feel immensely proud. “See, it's easy.”

  
“Where to?” Harry ignored Ron's cockieness and continued to build up his mass of snow. Ron grinned and walked back to his own.

  
“Over there. Race ya’?” Ron began to frantically push his boulder around in the snow and down the slight hill. Harry rose to the challenge and chased after Ron, whilst he wasn't as quick he hurried as quickly as he could, being careful not to break his snow ball. Once they'd reached the clearing away from the house, Ron stopped and stretched. His back clicked from leaning over for so long.

  
“Given up?” Harry coaxed from behind. He was out of breath and slightly sweating despite the below freezing temperatures.

  
“Here's good.” Ron turned back. He carefully dug his fingers beneath the ball and lifted it up, he gingerly placed Harry’s ball on top of his own. Once satisfied that it was sturdy he stood back to look at their work.

  
“Bit muddy. I thought they were supposed to be white.” Harry thought that his and Ron's man wasn't as nice as the ones the others made the other day. Theirs was a pretty dirty with blades of grass and sticks trapped in the snow.

  
“Yeah, well, it'll do.” Ron shrugged and began to shift the snow away with his foot, “we need some sticks and stuff to make the face and arms.” Ron bent down to pick up a twig that was stuck to his boots. Harry continued continued with the search. The both silently scooted around in the snow finding odd bits and pieces. The two reunited with a handful of things.

  
“I've got some stones for the eyes or the buttons. I don't think it matters which.” Harry opened his palm and Ron took one of the stones, he placed it where the left eye should be. Harry did the same and filled in the gap opposite.

  
“Looks better already.” Ron pushed the stones in a little further into the face of the snowman before they dropped off. Ron took another stone and pushed it into the nose space. Harry began making the mouth, stone by stone, he gave the fictional man a smile. He searched the ground for some more to complete the expression. “Here,” Ron held up two long sticks, which were dug in either side of the fat body.

  
“He looks better than you did at the ball.” Harry gathered a small piece of snow and held it in his hand, expecting Ron to retaliate, starting a snowball fight.

  
“Oi!” Ron had, he gathered a dangerously large handful of snow and hurtled it towards Harry, anticipating the attack Harry dodged the ball and threw his own back, “cheeky bugger!” Ron gathered another clump of snow and chucked it at Harry, this time getting his arm. It was an unsatisfactory victory.

  
“I'm sure you were thinking about it!” Harry claimed defensively.

  
“Maybe.” Ron and Harry engaged in a heart match, which felt like to the death, snow was beginning to melt and clothes were getting wet. They'd completely forgotten about their snowman. Ron threw a snowball and it exploded on impact making Harry’s face wet and some dribbled down his back. “Mum will kill me if you come back wet and cold.” Ron dropped the ammunition he had in his hand and brushed off the snow that was stuck to the fibres of his gloves.

  
“What shall we call him?” Harry took another look at their snowman, realising that he wasn't quite finished still, but he was charming nonetheless.

  
“Dunno. Mr Snow?” Ron posited a name.

  
“Mr Snow? That can't be the best you can do.” Harry giggled. The name was weak and even Ron knew that ot wasn't fitting for their scholarly man made from snow.

  
“Go on, you have a go.” Ron had no clue, it was always Ginny or Molly who named the creations. Ron never really cared enough to contribute.

  
“Snowy Weasley.” Harry suggested. Ron simply shook his head with disappointment.

  
“You're worse than my sister. Snowy Weasley it is then.” Ron couldn't be bothered to think about it for any longer. He let Harry pick the name rather than questioning his terrible imagination.

  
“There's nothing wrong with the name.” Ron had begun to shiver, kt was definitely time to make their way back to the house. Ron paused for a moment and stood incredibly still, he wondered whether now was the opportunity he was looking for, what Charlie had told him about. He was happier than he'd been in a while and so was Harry.

  
“Harry...” Ron let out. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He'd grown incredibly nervous and his coldness was replaced with warm sweats. His hands grew clammy in his gloves so he took them off. Harry waited for Ron to speak. “I need to talk to you about somethin.” Harry gulped, could Ron really be telling him about what the letter meant?

  
“You know you can tell me anything.” Harry smiled reassuringly, Ron seemed to be struggling a little and Harry felt like Ron needed all the support he could muster.

  
“I know, which is why I've got to tell you something. If I don't do it now, I might not at all.” Words were falling from his mouth, hks brain telling him to throw a hand over his mouth and say no more, yet the words kept coming, with thought, “I think that... well...” Ron stuttered hopelessly. Harry held back, he so desperately wanted to finish Ron's sentence for him but it was best to sit back ansI'm listen. “I mightbe gay.” Ron shut his eyes, not knowing what to expect, he feared the worst and crumpled them shut as if he was about to be hit. Instead nothing came, he waited with his eyes shut.

  
Harry knew that what Ron had done was beaver than anything he could account for, he fully supported Ron in every way, his sexuality was not a limiting factor, Ron was still Ron. Harry couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly happy, he gave Ron a hug to settle his nerves.

  
Ron wasn't expecting a hug, he was expecting a long and awkward silence and that Harry would be disappointed in him. To feel Harry’s puffy arms wrapped around him felt like a weight lifted, he felt like he could collapse onto the floor, he was so relieved. Instead of falling to his knees in the snow he reciprocated the embrace and tightened his hold on the shorter boy.

  
“Thanks.” Ron whispered weakly.

  
“You're you - I wouldn't have you any different.” Ron felt a lump grow in the back of his throat and tears filled his eyes but he held them back, not wanting to cry. The two stood in the snow for a while, not wanting to break the embrace.

  
“You're freezing, Let's go.” Ron gave Harry a final squeeze before opening his arms, releasing Harry. As soon as Harry stood back, emptiness took over and the cold washed in. He'd managed to accomplish that much, but tell Harry the whole truth would have to wait for another day, not any day soon,not until he knew if his feelings would last.

  
“And tired.” Harry rubbed his eyes, he'd been out of the house and running around for too long now and today has been undeniably emotionally draining, it's not every day you find out that your best friend is gay.

  
......

  
“Goodness you two! How long have you been out?” Molly pointed angrily at the clock in the living room. It was in fact almost 7PM. Molly had gone out and called their names a couple of times thinking that they'd come in but they were too far away to hear Molly’s cries.

  
“We built a snowman behind the house.” Fred and George glanced at each other and simultaneously ‘aww’ ed. Ron was a little flushed still from the big reveal and ignored their belittling. Molly whipped them both with her tea-towel.

  
“I'll put the kettle on, you boys go and get some fresh clothes on.” Molly filled the kettle with water and turned on the stove. Thr appliance had been used non stop these last few weeks since the chill of winter washed in. Ron and Harry trudged up stairs, kicking their boots off before they began the treck up. Wet foot prints were left on each wooden step.

  
“Wanna borrow some socks?” Ron offered as he took off his own, pulling two pairs of hand woven woolen socks out of the draw. Ron threw him over the pair, Harry caught the ball despite Ron’s awkward throw it was apparent why he was the team seeker. Harry threw himself onto his bed and pulled off his socks, they were wringable and his toes were wrinkly. He came to the assumption that there must have been a hole in the bottom of his shoe.

  
“How long have you known?” Harry blurted out, Ron paused for a moment thinking through what he wanted to say.

  
“Not long. Few weeks?” Harry nodded curiously as he put his new warm socks on. “Since the Ball.” Ron had planned to slowly reveal the whole nature of his feelings until Harry could pretty much guess for himself, avoiding the shocking confrontation. It was a terrible move seeing as Harry was almost as dense as he was. Over the last couple of days he'd really thought about what the best moves would be to take, looking after Harry and their ‘kiss’ had only strengthened his feelings.

  
“How do you know?” Harry dared not say the word aloud encase Ron’s mother had her ear pressed to the door.

  
“Don't really. More of a feelin’ I suppose.” Ron shrugged, he didn't know that he was actually gay, he didn't have feelings for anybody else apart from Harry, he didn't really think that qualified him to be gay - bisexual at best.

  
“Have you told Hermione yet?” Harry knew that after the ball him and Hermione had a falling out, neither of them actually told Harry what they fought about, it seemed suspicious now that he thought about it.

  
“No, not yet. I figured she'd be freaked out.” Ron hadn't even thought about telling Hermione, now he did, it seemed that the nerves that once got him were beginning to eat at his stomach once again. Whilst he wasn't still in love with Hermione, he deeply cared for her. He would definitely have to tell her soon otherwise it'd upset her to be the last to know.

  
“Doubt it, this is Hermione we're talking about. She wouldn't care. She'd probably be a little confused but that's just her.” Harry could imagine Hermione taking the information in and trying to rationally process and shift through her brain, having felt like she'd completely missed any signs. “Maybe she already knows?” It wouldn't come as a surprise if Hermione already knew, she was highly observant.

  
“Nahh, she's too busy with Viktor.” Ron wished it'd stay that way for a while longer so that he could tell her himself rather than her waltzing up and asking him outright.

  
“Find anybody attractive? Cedric? Viktor?” Harry couldn't help but admire his two elder competitors, they were the physical essence of a man and highly skilled. He on the other hand paled in comparison.

  
“Not my type.” Ron admitted bluntly. Harry couldn't really think about anybody else, there wasn't much ‘eye candy’ to gawk at.

  
“Who is your type? Don't tell me it's Malfoy.” Ron grimaced at the very thought, if he ever developed feelings for a snake then he'd probably have to kill himself.

  
“Fek no, that ferret? You've got to be having a laugh.” Harry couldn't stop laughing, he never would have thought that a Weasley would ever end up with a Malfoy. It was unthinkable, impossible.

  
“What about somebody else? In our year? I guess Dean isn't a bad looking bloke.” Ron shook his head dramatically. Harry would never guess who it would be even if he went through all the names in the school.

  
“Knock it off Harry. There's nobody. If there was I'd tell you.” Ron refused to give Harry any more information, Harry would only pester him to death if he carried on answering each of his questions.

  
“Alright alright.” Harry put on a clean jumper and hung his wet one over his bed post to dry. The two were ready to go down and have something to eat, they were both starving.

“Funny, I had a dream the other night...” Ron's ears perked up.

  
“About? About You-Know-Who?” Ron asked.

  
“No, about me and you. We were in the shed, cleaning and we sort of kissed.” Ron blushed a bright red. He knew that Harry had dreamt about him the other night when he'd been calling out his name in his sleep.

  
“Why? You're mental you are.” Ron coughed a little and frowned.

  
“Yeah? I guess it was pretty weird. Haven't really had one since.” Apart from the dozy dream he had the other night on the sofa, although that felt too real to bring up. It'd probably scare Ron away, thinking that he was unconsciously after him.

  
“Probably a freak dream like kissing Madam Pomfrey.” Harry looked horrified. “What? You've never had that?” Ron appealed desperately.

  
“No, I can safely say I haven't!” Harry mocked. Ron silenced himself in anguish. Would Harry ever see him the same after learning that he had dreams about their Medi-Witch? He could safely assume that Hermione would know as soon as they went back to school and even she would be mocking him.

 

Hey guys~ it's me!  
I was really hoping that everybody could leave some more feedback so I can get your opinions and ideas. And for the general support x  
Thank you for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

Molly had cooked a pie for dinner that night with a hearty side of roasted potatoes. Of course she'd cooked more than enough and given Harry a large portion of vegetables, of which she sat leering at him until he ate them all. Whilst tonight was new year's eve, the house wasn't going to be filled with relative, nor would it be filled with noise like it usually is.

  
Pretty soon after dinner Harry fell asleep on the sofa and Ron took this opportunity to write back to his brother Charlie, telling him exactly what had gone on.

  
_Charlie_  
 _I did it - well sort of. Took him out to make a snowman and just blurted it out. I didn't have the guts to tell him everything but I will as soon as I know how he feels. Didn't think I'd do it did you? Neither did I to be honest. I felt bad for lying to him._  
 _Don't think I'll be able to tell mum or dad just yet - mum's still trying to get Harry and Ginny together and Ginny likes Harry. Harry’s told me that he doesn't see Ginny in that way so I'm not worried._  
 _But I am! It irks me that Ginny likes him, she's always trying to hold his hand, she's only young so she'll move on but I'm jealous. She won't be the only one, Harry gets lots of attention and I hate it but he's not mine._  
 _Anyway... I'm rambling. Cheers bro._  
 _Ron_

  
Ron sent the letter away and sat under the window on the bench. A huge sense of relief took over once again, although he was troubled by the looming fear of competition. All thewhile he sat and put off revealing his feelings the higher the chance that Harry finds himself somebody who he loves and perhaps wants to spend his life with. No, Harry isn't even in the right mind at the moment. Stop being so complicated. Ron thought to himself. All at once he was over complicating things by worrying about the next step and challenges that didn't entirely exist.

  
He took a deep breath and smiled, baby steps he recited to himself. Baby steps. Ron, with a slight hop in his step made the journey downstairs. He was bombarded by his two twin brothers who each had a devious quality about them.

  
“Ronald, brother.” Fred smiled cheekily. Ron glared at them both sceptically.

  
“Yes?” He cocked a brow as Fred’s contagious smile spread to George, Fred was an increasingly bad influence on his younger brother.

  
“Well, if you want in, me and Fred brought some fireworks.” Fred had somehow persuaded their father to buy them industrial fireworks, not just the cheeky prank fire crackers, actual fireworks.

  
“But you can't tell mum.” George warned. They'd be confiscated immediately if she found out and that wasn't exaggerated. She'd be absolutely furious, she'd be so angry that she'd ground them until she died and even then she'd haunt them keeping them firmly in line.

  
“Mum told you not to, but why the hell not.” Ron had begun to inherit his brother's carefree attitude. Be figured that he was in such a good mood that nothing would spoil the day.

  
“Ayyy! You gotta keep mum busy when the time comes - before midnight.” Ron rolled his eyes, of course he'd be doing the dirty work. Fred held out his fist to his brother for a knuckle touch, Ron cringed but did it anyway.

  
“Yeah alright.” Ron slid past them on the staircase as Fred and George went up - no doubt to check on their ‘stock’ so that everything everything went smoothly later on. Ron pausedin the doorway and watched as Harry slept. Harry was so peaceful, his cheeks red and his mouth slightly open. Ron rarely got to see Harry so relaxed, most nights Harry would be up doing work - then giving up of course and finishing everything last minute during breakfast - but with the trials and Harry’s nightmares, some weeks Harry barely slept at all. It was good for the boy to recuperate this holiday.

  
“Ron dear, leave him be.” Molly whispered softly from the doorway of the kitchen. Ron followed her into the kitchen. It was empty which was a rarity. “He needs his sleep. I'm sure he'll be right as rain in the morning.” Molly smiled reassuringly.

  
“Suppose.” He shrugged.

  
“I know it hasn't been the Christmas you wanted but Harry will be just fine.” Molly had watched Ron and Hermione awkwardly try and make conversation with the middle man - Harry to stop them from bickering at each other. She knew that Ron was pretty gutted by thr fact that he'd barely gotten to spend any time with his best friend this year.

  
“Its been alright mum. Better than I thought.” Ron gave an anxious side smile thinking about how well things had gone with Harry earlier that day.

  
“I just know he means a lot to you.” Molly grinned cheekily, Ron became concerned with his mother's look. It was like she knew something that he didn't, she'd never been any good at keeping secrets. In first year she'd sent Ron a vocal letter expressing the fact that he'd forgotten his toothbrush and asked him outright what he'd been using for the last week. Of course everybody on the slytherin table overheard and mocked him effortlessly for the following few weeks. He'd never been so embarrassed.

  
“Of course he's my best mate.” Ron said coolly. Inside his head he was screaming ‘and love of my life’ if only he'd been brave enough to say it in that moment. Instead he suppressed the crippling voice in his head that sounded strikingly like his older brother Charlie.

  
“Are you sure he isn't more than that?” Ron choked as he swallowed. He spluttered and his face turned a dangerous crimson. Molly ignored her son's response and nonchalantly began to wipe down the kitchen work surfaces.

  
“What? Whatever Fred’s told you is a lie!” Ron hadn't told anybody as of yet and so the only source of information would be Fred, spouting his nonsense jokes and rumours.

  
“A mother knows Ronald.” the kitchen fell silent, Ron stared at the wooden floor without so much as blinking. “I don't mean to embarrasse you. I just wanted to know is all.” no matter what her son defended himself with she knew it'd be lies, she'd seen him with her own eyes and that was enough even without a confession.

  
Do it Ron! She's your mother! Charlie's voice pounded through his mind. She's the one person who’d love you no matter what. Ron nodded to himself, his courage was building until in one thoughtless breath he spoke, “Yes.” Molly’s hand flew to her mouth, she'd never expected Ron to actually tell the truth. The tension building was released in a heavy exhale and Ron relaxed a little.

  
“See, I told you! A mother knows.” Molly opened her arms wide and rushed to embrace her son. She gave him several hard pats on the back which almost winded him.

  
“You'll promise not to tell anyone right?” Ron asked shakily, it'd all been over in a matter of seconds and now a dreading fear set in, his mother would tell the whole family, she'd owl everybody she knew telling them about the news and they'd all flood to the house and wish him well. No doubt it'd reach Arthur in a no time and by the end of the day tomorrow everyone in the ministry would be chatting over it.

  
“Oh of course not dear, I'll tell your father not to either. You know he's got a large mouth.” Ronrolled his eyes, Molly’s ambivalent to her own gossiping powers.

  
“What are you two up to in here?” Arthur strode into the room brushing the crumbs off of his knitted jumper. It was obvious that he'd had his way with the last of the mince pies, the evidence even remained in the cracks of his mouth.

  
“Me and Ronald have just had a little chat.” Molly called Arthur over with her hand, he obliged and walked over. She continued until Arthur came in close, she whispered; “We've got another in the family.” Arthur frowned.

  
“What? Speak sense dear.” He shook his head. Molly huffed and pulled him in again.

  
“Ron's told me that he's gay.” Molly spoke clearly this time, Arthur idly nodded, he seemed unphased by the news.

  
“I'll tell you what I told your brother, Molly wants lots of grandbabies. Whoever you marry, just promise us you'll give us a fair few.” Molly had always wanted a big family and an even bigger cohort of grandchildren to look after in her old age.

  
“Adoption is perfectly fine, but I guess that brings us onto the talk.” Molly looked anxiously at her husband. He had reciprocated the look. Ron rubbed the bride of his nose, he wasn't ready for any such conversation.

  
“I know mum, protection and all that. You don't need to tell me.” Ron couldn't bare the thought of his parents talking about sex. He cringed and his brain spasmed inside his skull, this wasn't happening.

  
“I think we do because, like we told your brother, albeit he was a little older, homosexual intercorse is a little different.” The words rolled off of his tongue. “You see, male wizards can also get pregnant.” Ron shuddered violently.

  
“It is harder for non-pure blood wizards to have their own children but nonetheless! You have been warned Ronald Weasley.” Molly pointed a finger at her son, he had been well cautioned. A part of him felt like they were trying to scare him into making sure he was safe but everyday came with new surprises and he hadn't yet had any sex education at Hogwarts.

  
“Okay, okay. Gottcha. I'm not going to be doing anything like that for a while yet mum.” Ron hadn't even thought about actually partaking in anything sexual with Harry, he wasn't ready which seemingly is the only thing that he was one hundred percent sure of.

  
“We know that it's embarrassing but Charlie had the same talk. We don't really advise that you trying anything whist you're underage but if you find somebody that you really like I must emphasise caution. Prevention is better than cure.” Arthur's tone was serious and flat as opposed to his cheerful skip, Ron completely understood what his parents were saying and that they trusted him to be absolutely careful.

  
“Don't worry, I'll remember.” Ron said affirmingly. Both of his parents smiled graciously.

  
“We know you will. We trust you. Now, go and wake up Harry. It's almost half 11, the countdown will begin soon.” Ron completely switched focus, he remembered what his brother's had told him about. Ron hurried to wake Harry before checking on what Fred and George were up to.

  
“Harry...you need to wake up.” Ron shook Harry gently and pulled back the blanket which he had tucked in. He shook Harry once more increasingly shaking harder. “Harry.” the boy began to stir and his eyes twitched open.

  
“Ron?” Harry murmured half asleep.

  
“You got to get up mate, the clock will countdown soon.” Molly crept in and turned om the radio next to the grandfather clock. It fuzzed and it was nothing but static as Molly adjusted the signal. When she found the right channel she sat to listen.

  
“Wizards, witches, goblins and elfs who are just tuning in, this is Wizarding Network News and its currently 11:54. Grab your friends, family and lovers it's time for the show to begin!”

 

“Oh right yeah.” Harry dug the crust out of the corners of his eyes and sat up. He took a big yawn and reached out for his toes, his back arched. He relaxed and sunk back into the sofa.

  
“Come on mate.” Ron took one of Harry's hands and proceeded to pull him off of the sofa, assisting him to his feet. Ron leaned in, “Fred and George have something planned. Don't tell mum.” he whispered. Harry grinned he had wholeheartedly expected the twins to follow their mother's wishes but that hardly sounded like them at all.

  
“You're awake, didn't want you to miss the countdown.” Arthur said cheerfully, it was extremely unlikely that Harry would miss the display seeing that Fred and George had gotten the best fireworks their money could buy.

  
“Mum come and have a look at this outside.” Fred coaxed from the doorway. Molly tilted her head with confusion and gazed around the room suspiciously. Ron shrugged his shoulders when his mother shot him a inquisitive look. Molly played bait and followrd her son to the door. Fred winked at his brother. “Just over there...look.” The night sky was unfortunately foggy and pitch black. Fred gestured to his brother to turn up the radio.

  
“Come on everybody gather round! Just a minute to go - 59 -58.”

  
Ron called up the stairs to his sister, “Ginny!” she came rushing down the stairs almost tripping on the rope to her dressing gown.

  
“Is he about to start?” Ginny listened in to the radio. It was already counting down from thirty seconds. She giddily rushed to the door but much like her mother couldn't see a thing.

  
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Molly squinted and tried to see past the thick layer of fog. “Where's George?” she began frantically. Fred put a hand on his mother's shoulder.

  
“Ready George?” He called out.

  
“Ready!” Came George’s distinctive voice.

  
“5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1! Happy New Year!”

  
On queue George lit the first firework. Everybody stood puzzled by what was to happen. Gradually everyone joined Molly in the garden. Arthur held his wife's hand intently as a series of sparks broke free from the blinding mist. Shooting up from the ground came an electric blue jolt that met as high as the stars. It wheezed and fizzled in the air breaking into individual beams. It wasn't long until a second spark whined into the air, a red one this time. The two intertwine and much like a helix dance even higher than before.

  
Molly had forgotten to be angry having being captivated by the display. She squeezed Arthur's hand tightly. The bitter cold had turned noses red and hands ghostly white but nobody seemed bothered by the chill, everybody watched in awe.

  
Once the round had faded into atmosphere, a second began to crackle from the ground, shooting upwards quicker than anybody could have seen. Heads followed its path. The trail of light that started off white fizzled into a rainbow of colours showering those who watched.

  
Ron turned to face Harry, the smaller boy still heavily fixated on the array, his glasses a mirror. Ron smiled contentedly he longed to hold Harry's hand or place his arm round Harry's hips but he took the moment to savour the memory. In that second Ron made a pledge; he wouldn't be watching the fireworks alone next year.

  
It was time for the finale, the last of the fireworks. George had lit it and he ran over away from the blast zone. Fred held out a fist to his brother who reciprocated and bumped him.

  
The wasteful of sparks stopped and the twins exchanged worrying glances. Only moments later a lonely beam shot earshatteringly into the air, everyone blocked their ears.

  
“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed.

  
“Wait for it.” Fred slugged his brother on the shoulder.

  
The single stream began to trickle and vanish when the brightest part began to grow brighter and brighter and from it came a white horse. It raised itself onto its hiegn legs and let out a loud neigh. It proceeded to run through the air, hooves clicking as if walking on anything but the bareness of the sky. The meign and tail blew gracefully through the wind as it circled the family coming extremely close - close enough to touch. It was much like a powerful patronus.

  
“Whicked.” The twins spoke in unison.

  
The horse galloped up an imaginary stairway before imploding into a giant wheezing ball that scattered itself into uncountable amounts with a 'kaboom' that made hearts race.

  
A round of applause followed the fade out. Everybody widely impressed with what they'd seen. Although the display had only lasted five minutes, it felt like they'd been watching for hours.

  
“One day you two will give me a heart attack.” Molly slapped her son's around the back of their heads, “I'm glad you didn't listen to me.” This time showing them some affection and kissing them both on the cheek. Molly never actually punished her son's despite her stern words, even if she did they wouldn't learn anything and continue on with their troublemaker ways.

  
“Well done boys. Outdid yourselves again.” Arthur directed his wife back inside the house. Following close behind was Ginny.

  
“Anybody fancy a boogie?” The radio was still on, now it was playing the after countdown entertainment like usual. “Not the best choice this year, Spellbound, they've been very scandalous this year if I might add.” Spellbound was a famous all witch group that had a passion for drinking excessively.

One member was said to have flown through a muggle neighbourhood on a broom, whilst at night, was still seen but at least ten muggles - all of which who had their memories erased.

  
All brothers looked at each other, embarrassed. Molly held out her hand to Ginny, pulling her in for a playful spin along with the music. “Ron, Harry. I've seen the pictures of the Yule ball, don't get shy now.” Molly teased. Harry and Ron blushed.

  
“May I have this dance?” Fred turned to his brother, George clasped his brother's hand tightly and the two began to waltz along to the rock band on the radio. Ginny couldn't help but giggle and the twin's bizzarness.

  
“Come on then you two.” Molly once again prompted. The pressure was similar to that of the ball. Neither wanted to look at the other like before. “Here.” Molly helped them out. “You take Harry's hands.” She forced Ron's hand onto Harry's.

  
“Welcome onto the stage our next band, Weird Sisters!”

  
“Ladies, gentleman grab a hand. Lets not let the magic of last year die!”

  
Harry had been looking at the floor, that's when the song brgan, the song that he and Ron hasn't gotten to dance to at the end of the night. It was already late and Harry wanted to take a slow walk back to the dorms. Ron had wanted to stay for the song but had willingly agreed to leave. Harry looked up, Ron was already there to meet his eyes.

  
It felt as if they were back in that moment, right next to the band, surrounded by couples burrowing their heads in the crook of each others necks. In that frame Harry had instinctively wanted to do the same but refrained being overly aware that people would stare at them both. His and Ron's eyes were glued together, even though the room was filled with people, neither of them noticed. Ron gently hummed along to the melody of the song, the vibrations rumbled through Harry's own chest.

  
Molly couldn't help but watch in the arms of her own husband. She would have never thought that Ron and Harry would be a pair but seeing them together warmed her heart. Her other two sons dancing together, she had very little hopes that they'd find themselves a girl friend - or at least not for a very long time.

  
Harry couldn't help but notice how at peace Ron was and how limber he was. For a long time he, himself, hadn't felt so carefree, especially after being sick recently. He wondered why each time he and Ron connected like this he felt so engulfed in bliss, perhaps they should do this more often.

  
The song was shortly over and the two were ever so unaware. For Ron he lived for the small moments like these in which he could be so close. His humming stoped and he opened up his hands, Harry fell out of Ron's embrace.

  
“See it wasn't that bad.” Molly turned down the radio a little. “Ginny dear, you should probably get some sleep.” Ginny rolled her eyes, she was only thirteen but it was only half past twelve.

  
“Do I have to?” She whined.

  
“At least get ready. We're all going to bed now.” It would probably be a long time before Harry and Ron finally feel asleep but it was about time to sleep and fatigue was beginning to set in.

  
.........................

  
“Good night boys.” Molly called from the doorway. Ron and Harry had both settled into bed all cleaned up and dressed. Ron answered back ‘night mum' and she was on her way back to her own bedroom where Arthur was probably already fast asleep.

  
“Told mum and dad tonight.” Ron let slip. He signed heavily gazing up at the ceiling, “they gave me a talk.” he shuddrred remembering what he'd been told.

  
“Yeah? I bet that was awkward.” Harry had never gone through any such talk and he wasn't jealous of Ron or all those that have. If his uncle Vernon taught him about sex it'd only be that he wasn't allowed to ever have it or that nobody would ever want to share the experience. He pitied Duddley, it must have been a traumatic night.

  
“They told me that male wizards can get pregnant, how bizzar is that!” Ron was still horrified by the idea. It made no sense at all.

  
“What? How does that work?” Harry was startled by the fact. His face cringed the more he thought about it.

  
“Right!” Ron agreed.

  
“Do you think you'll get married then?” Harry moved swiftly away from the thought of a pregnant professor Snape which had very suddenly plagued his mind.

  
“Why not? Not yet but I hope I do.” Ron had wanted a family and he'd originally fantasized about sharing a life with Hermione but that scene didn't appeal to him anymore. The idea of getting married had saddened him, at the moment he could only picture a life with Harry one that was even more unattainable than spouting red haired children with Hermione. He hadn't seriously considered a life with Harry but the freshly sewn image made him smile.

  
“I hope I do too.” Harry rubbed his eyes. “Lets make a pact. If neither of us are married by the time we're fourty, lets get married.” Ron sat up in bed.

  
“Really?” Ron was surprised by Harry's sudden offer, “are you having a laugh or do you mean it?” he questioned.

  
“Yeah. For sure.” Harry wouldn't mind spending his adult years with his best friend. It wasn't as if they'd be romantically involved but the time they spend together was always happy and adventurous.

  
“Deal.” Ron fell backwards. In his mind he thought; only twenty five years to go. That is if Harry hadn't already fallen in love and had children of his own. It was probably doubtful seeing as Harry wanted a job in the ministry as an Auror.

  
“Happy new year Ron.” Harry turned onto his side and pulled up the blankets so it covered everything up to his chin. His toes were slowly warning themselves up and his shivering was subsiding.

  
“Yeah. Yeah, happy new year.” Ron folded his arms behind his head and his feet twitched under the duvet it was a normal thing he did when he couldn't sleep. Harry was somewhat greatful that Ron couldn't sleep so that he could peacefully drift off without having to wait for Ron to stop snoring. Little did Harry know that he'd fueled Ron's fire desire and it was tasking for Ron to settle his mind for long enough to slip away and no doubt dream about the possible future - only fooling himself helplessly.


	12. Chapter 12

It came that day once again that the Weasleys with tag-along Harry were to return back to Hogwarts. It was a given that the train journey was long and usually very boring but nobody seemed to mind the return back to school. It was also a given that Harry would splurge and buy himself, Ron and Hermione sweets from the trolley. Ron would eat the majority and collect everybody’s wizard cards that came with the chocolate frog leaving with a wad of disgarged famous heads. He never did anything with them but still liked to collect them nevertheless. Hermione read but took breaks to hassle Harry about having still not found out the secret in his golden egg, reminding him that the task was weeks away. Harry would sigh and roll his eyes, in reality the task was almost three months away and he reckoned that he had enough time.

  
Once the train pulled up in the station and everybody got off, they took the boats six at a time to the carriages which took them to the castle gate. Having put on some clean robes, they abandoned their belongings to be sorted and brought to their dorm rooms before nightfall. The three friends sat in their usual spaces along the Gryffindor table and waited for their headmaster to give his usual speech.

  
This time, Dumbledoor skimmed over the topic of the Tri-wizard tournament and moved swiftly onto improving the interconnectedness between Hogwarts houses. Whispers and snide remarks came from the far table - slytherins and the gryffindors huffed and sighed. Neither house wanted anything to do with another and that worked to the extent that it prevented fights breaking out every ten minutes. It was a wasted effort on his part as all four houses ignored the message and agreed to keep to their own.

  
Dumbledoor had also mentioned sternly that there were going to be harsher punishments for pranks seeing as there'd been an awful lot of nasty goings on directed at the Beauxbaton girls and the new year 7s. It was obvious that most of the words were directed at the fourth year slytherins (Drago and his posse) and none other than Fred and George who saw pranking as a right of passage for the little ones being indoctrined into the gryffindor family.

  
The feast commenced and everybody pigged out on chicken, lamb joints and roast potatoes. Not to mention the desert, ice cream and pies galore. With very swollen tummies everybody was sent up to their dorms.

  
“How was your Christmas Harry?” Nevil asked, towel drying his hair. Dressed in his striped pjymas and his felt slippers.

  
“It was great, caught something nasty though.” Every so often Harry was painfully reminded of his bedridden days with a wave of nausea. It seemed he wasn't as over his bug as he had hoped but he was quite far away from the initial sickness.

  
“Bet that put a damper on things. Hey Ron, I sent a letter to Ginny over Christmas...she didn't reply.” Neville looked slyly at the floor. Ron scratched the back of his head awkwardly, he knew that Ginny had ignored him and Ginny had specifically told him to tell Neville to take it easy. Neville was the type to feel extremely brokenhearted and Ron didn't want to be the bearer of bad news.

  
“Yeah about that.” Ron avoided Neville’s already saddened eyes, “I think you better move on mate.”

  
“Oh. Doesn't she like me?” Neville had put a lot of effort into making the Yule ball special, he spent countless hours learning how to dance and his grandmother brought him the most expensive suit she could, as well as a sweet corsage.

  
“I didn't want to be the one to tell you, but I don't think she does. You're a nice guy and all Neville. Ginny is missing out big time.” Neville felt empty inside and Ron felt like a bastard for breaking Neville’s heart for the first time.

  
“I get it. Don't worry Ron.” Neville had been too hopeful, “I'll try again in a few years.” Ginny was only thirteen, he could definitely settle for being friends until they were old enough to think about beginning an adult relationship.

  
“You'll have better luck then. All shes into nowadays is quidditch players.” Quidditch being the equivalent to muggle football with all its fame and glory. It was much like teens crushing on Kevin Davis, instead teens crushed over Viktor Krum or Adian Lynch (seeker for the Irish team).

  
“Too bad...” Neville accepted his fate. Unless he joined the house team or over night became good enough to qualify for a national team, he was out of luck.  
All of the boys retired for the night after lengthily chatting about what they did during the last few days if Christmas. Seamus had an uneventful Christmas with his father watching the boxing and having a sneaky sip of brandy without his mother's knowledge. Dean had gone away with his family to the Caribbean and Neville and his grandmother spent the entire time cooking and cleaning out her wardrobe. Harry and Ron had a few stories of their own which were purposefully kept hidden.

  
It was the first night back in the lumpy school mattresses. Each time a boy moved the canopy and bed frame squeaked which made sleeping a difficult task. It only ever took a few nights to get reacquainted with the environment. One thing Harry wasn't ready for was Snape's bitterness and foul attitude first period of the morning.

  
“How is it that you two are the only ones who failed to hand in your homework?” Snape glared at Harry and Ron, he was long passed caring or listening to excuses. He was ready to roll out a months worth of detention.

  
“I've been ill Professor.” Harry tried to justify why his desk was empty. Hermione sat opposite from the boys and couldn't help but stare intensely wondering what would Happen. She of course had done all of her homework and was frustrated that Ron hadn't done his.

  
“Your failure to keep your health up is none of my concern. Next time you should take better care of yourself.” Harry shook his head, he wasn't about to argue with the man. It would have been near on impossible for anything he planned on saying to be absorbed into Snape's judgmental skull. Snape walked away from their desks. Harry and Ron stared at each other, astounded that their professor hasn't slapped them with a detention. “That'll be two weeks detention, both of you.” that was more like it. They both sighed.

  
“Think the old bat lives to make our lives a misery.” Ron knew that he would get detention, he had purposefully decided not to do the two sides of parchment on ultra rare ingredients and their origins.

  
“Clearly.” Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't care about Snape's lesson and the feeling appeared mutual. It wasn't unknown that Snape had a vendetta against Harry, treating him very obviously worse than all of the other students whilst glorifying his own house.

  
“Don't worry about it mate, at least we've got detention together.” Ron had rested his head in crossed arms on the table. Snape's dull and boring lectures were enough to put anybody to sleep. And that is exactly what he had planned to do for the rest of the morning. That is until Snape told everybody to open their textbooks to page 97 and follow the recipe in creating a draft of Confusing Concoction. The class was divided up into pairs and it was a mess as people scrambled for the best partner.

  
“I don't want you two working together. If either of you want to succeed in this class I suggest you separate. Weasley, work with Mrs Granger.” Ron sighed with anguish, he reluctantly trudged over to Hermione’s desk. Harry was left standing in the middle of the room searching for his own partner. “Well well. Looks like you'll have to come to the front.” Ron gave Harry a sympathetic look. Working with Hermione was annoying, but being partners with that greasy git was unthinkable.

  
“Right. Okay.” Eyes watched Harry approach professor Snape.

  
“Where is your equipment?” Snape barked with crossed arms and an eyebrow raised. Harry said nothing and trailed back to the cupboard. He brought back with him the cauldron and utensils. “I will not assist you in any way. I'll watch over your technique and your no doubt poor preperation.” Harry bit his tongue. Sure he and Ron were occasionally lazy and slack but Harry paid attention and more often than not, worked hard.  
Harry skimmed over the recipe and list of instructions. It read;

  
• Bring Water to a boil  
• Separate the Barbs from the Jabberknoll Feathers.  
• Place Barbs into boiling water and stir twelve times clockwise, and seven times anti-clockwise  
• Boil for 30 minutes  
• Add Leech Juice by squeezing one Leech into the cauldron, stirring in an unpredictable fashion  
• Continue stirring until potion thickens (within five minutes)  
• If potion does not thicken within ten minutes, add the juice of the second leech and continue stirring in an unpredictable fashion  
• If potion fails to thicken after the addition of the second leech, start another brew

  
Harry remembered failing a question based on this recipe in his exams last year. This was probably why Snape chose to recover the topic. Harry knew that it was vital to get this correct the second time round.  
Harry placed five jugs of water into the cauldron and put the cauldron on to boil. Even with such a menial task Snape watched him intensely. Harry followed the recipe to a T. There wasn't a single thing Snape should have been able to complain about.

  
“Your wrist movements are too slack. You have to make your stirrs more pronounced. Like this.” Snape had grown frustrated with the lack of effort Harry was putting into his work. So, he held Harry’s hand and moved the ladle along with the boy. Harry inhaled sharply, his teacher was fiercely close and holding his hand. “See. The mixture is beginning to thicken.” Snape continued to help Harry stir.

  
“I've got in now professor.” Harry felt trapped by the larger man's tight hold. The fumes from the potion were beginning to make his eyes water and he couldn't move away. Seamus nudged Ron from across the table.

  
“Look.” He whispered, sniggering. Ron followed Seamus’s ladle.

  
“What the bloody hell does he think he's doing?” Ron couldn't believe his eyes, rage boiled up through his body. He tightened the grip he had on the leech he held in his hand, so much so that it exploded.

  
“Ronald!” Hermione shrieked as the orange sticky liquid from one end of the leech sprayed her in the face. Luckily she had her goggles on and the juice didn't get her in the eye. She was still livid.

  
“Sorry 'Mione.” Ron rushed to grab some tissue, only now realising that the juice had trickled from his own hand and now currently ran down his shoe. Ron gave some tissue to Hermione so she could wipe away the juice before it stuck to her uniform and hair. Ron hardly cared and cleaned off the mush from his hand.

  
“Mr Weasleys. It seems you can't even work in a pair with Mrs Granger.” Ron looked up and professor Snape stood towering over him.

  
“If you'd let me work with who I wanted to, maybe I wouldn't be so distracted.” Ron bit back. He wanted to punch his professor, he wanted to rip out the greasy locks and beat him with his own squeaky leather shoes. He refrained. It wouldn't do much good being suspended or worse, expelled.

  
“Distracted? From where I'm standing, it appears that you've been daydreaming.” Ron scoffed, his anger rising to the top of his head. He stood, enraged.

  
“From where you stand? You mean pressing your prick against Harry. Belittling him like he's three! Don't you dare touch -” Ron began, fuming.

  
“Get out of my classroom!” Snape yelled. “I will not stand here and listen to your insults.” Ron clenched a fist by his side. Snape had become dangerously close, in his face even. Hermione pulled on the boy's arm and whispered, ‘just go.’

  
“Fine.” He said bluntly. Ron grabbed his bags and stormed out of the classroom. He slammed the for behind himself. The classroom was deadly silent, once again all eyes heavily rested on Harry.

  
“Get back to your work! All of you!” Snape bellowed. His voice echoed around the dungeons.

  
...........

  
Ron walked to the bathrooms. His bag dragged along the floor a few feet behind him. He opened the heavy wooden door and flung his satchel over to the sinks, not caring at all about the contents of his bag. He ran the cold tap and waited for it to run to the coldest it could before cupping his hands, filling them with water and soaking his face.  
He looked long and hard in the mirror, water dripping off of the bangs covering his face. He realised how stupid he'd been and how insanely jealous he could be. He couldn't help himself, professor Snape was a pervert, there was no need for him to be so close to Harry, which is why he exploded in the way he did. It wasn't right, nobody should touch Harry in that way, it was obvious that Harry was uncomfortable and loathed the older man's touch.

  
This wasn't the end. No doubt Snape will alert his head of house and Dumbledore. He'd have to apologise to the slimy toad. He desperately wanted a release from all of this anger, kicking in the doors the the toilets would only add salt to the weaping wound he'd already created. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, he repeated this several times. He felt the poison draining from his system.

  
The anger had slowly eaten away at him and now came an overwhelming emotion, his eyes welled and his throat thronged. He slumped down the bathroom wall and landed heavily on his bottom. The tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

  
Ron hadn't realised how long he'd been crying for, only that the bell had just rung meaning that lessons were over. He had stopped crying some time ago but sat against the wall, hopelessly drained feeling miserable and depressed. Knowing that there'd be people flocking in soon he pulled himself up and brushed off the dust from his trousers and robe. He took a quick glance in the mirror making sure that he was presentable enough to leave.

  
Luckily the corridors were jam packed and he could get to the common room without being seen. When he got there, professor McGonnagal was waiting at the portrait, no doubt for him. He considered turning back and pretending he had never seen her and come back later but it was easier to get things dealt with now.

  
“Mr Weasley, will you accompany me to the headmaster's office?” Her tone implied no room for a refusal. Ron simply nodded and followed closely behind as they hurried along. McGonnagal spoke the password and the staircase moved, it carried the two all the way to the top.

  
“Minerva, I trust he's with you?” Dumbledore looked beyond his thick cut glasses. Ron silently entred the room. “Ah, Mr Weasley. I trust you know why you're here?” Ron kept his head low. He nodded.

  
“Yes Sir.” he murmoured.

  
“I've deliberately told professor Snape to leave whilst we speak. There's no need to fret. I just want you to tell me, in your own words, how things happened.” Dumbledore's calm voice reassured Ron.

  
“Well...Snape gave me and Harry a detention for not doing our homework. Harry was really sick over the holidays professor. Snape still gave him a detention for it.” Dumbledore slowly nodded, absorbing Ron's words. “I deserved a detention. I just didn't do it.” Ron admitted.

  
“You know you should have done?” Dumbledore peered down queringly.

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Continue.” Dumbledore encouraged.

  
“Snape separated us, saying that we'd get more work done if we weren't together. I went with Hermione and Harry didn't have a partner so Snape called him to the front to watch him. All was fine, Harry looked like he was following the recipe, when I looked over Hermione was doing the same as Harry...so really there was no need for Snape to snap at him.” Ron hated the reoccurring anger that came ever so frequently recently.

  
“In what way did professor Snape react?” Dumbledore watched as Ron's legs began to shake and his ears began to flush a vibrant red. It was obvious that he felt extremely strong about the situation, even now.

  
“He yelled at him. Then he sort of came up behind him and showed him how to stir. He was pressed up really close, holding his hand and everything.” Dumbledore frowned, to him even that sounded peculiar.

  
“I see. How was Harry during this?” Ron cracked his neck, reliving a short bout of stress. He began again.

  
“He was uncomfortable. He was pressed right into the table. Snape was too close. It was all unnecessary anyway. Harry isn't two, he knows how to stir a bloody pot of water.” Ron's voice had unconsciously risen, almost yelling at his headmaster.

  
“I shall look into the matter. Don't you worry. I do believe that you could have handled the situation differently. Coming straight to another teacher or even directly to me to talk about the issue would have been a better way. I trust you understand that I will have to punish you accordingly and your parents will be informed.” Ron couldn't argue with his headmaster. He knew soon after the event that he handled things badly and he shouldn't have behaved in the way he did. It was only fair that he accept what was coming.

  
“I suppose I'll be getting detention and I'll have to write a letter apologising.” It seemed a little childish and trivial and it would definitely give Snape the satisfaction but it had to be done.

  
“You're right. I will launch a full scale investigation into the matter, rest assured. I will also have a conversation with professor Snape about what happened today as well as speaking to Mr Potter. For now I suggest you try and work passed things and go to lessons as normal.” Ron knew that with Dumbledore on the case, things will be resolved and the correct course of action would be followed.

Although Ron was absolutely sure that if something similar happened again he'd hit the guy regardless of what would happen.

  
............

  
During lunch break Dumbledore had called Harry into his office to speak privately about what had occurred earlier that day. Dumbledore had relayed everything that Ron had told him about the things that had happened. Harry had agreed that the course of events had been true and that Ron was telling the truth.

  
“Now we know what happened I'd like to ask you how you felt during the time professor Snape was close to you.” Dumbledore listened intently. Harry stood in front of the desk, he was ensured that their conversation was private but moving as far away from the door as he could relieved some of the anxiety.

  
“It was uncomfortable and embarrassing. I don't know...he embarrassed me, holding my hand like that in front of the class.” Dumbledore found it strange that Harry didn't seem concerned by how close Snape was and the perceivable implications of such actions.

  
“Do you think that Mr Weasley's reaction was called for?” Harry shook his head.

  
“I don't know why I didn't push him away. I should have done.” Harry hadn't stopped thinking about how pathetic he'd been, he'd faced dementors and been face-to-face with with Voldemort'd advances and managed to defend himself.

  
“Nobody can blame you Harry. It wasn't a nice position to be in. Ron had made the accusation that professor Snape had acted inappropriately in a possibly conceivably sexual way.” Harry felt like he was choking, to hear such words come from his headmaster's mouth was ludicrous.

  
“It didn't feel that way professor.” Harry flashed back to this morning, he remembered Snape grabbing his hand, the calluses on the professor's thumb. He remembered the tickle of Snape’Snape's hair against his cheek but nothing at all sexual came back to him.

  
“Your friend, Mr Weasley is under the impression that he was unsuitably too close.” Dumbledore was confused. He was now conflicted about what he should take away from the situation. It was unclear that Snape had acted in a manor most foul or it was a simple slip of judgment.

  
“Perhaps he was really close but I'm sure professor Snape didn't mean for it to be like that.” Harry spoke innocently. There were many things he could say about his professor but being a pervert wasn't one of them. Snape had strong morals and there seemed no logical reason as to why he would abandon them to commit such acts as those accused.

  
“I understand.” there was a sudden knock at the door, “come in.” the door creaked open. None other than professor Snape walked in.

“Ah professor, right on time. Harry dear, I wanted you and professor Snape to sit down and discuss your issues with one another.” The two men looked at each other, Snape hardly seemed impressed.

  
“Indeed? I believe we have a great deal to talk about.” Dumbledore rose from his seat and fixed his robes.

  
“You may have my office. Take as long as you wish.” He made a swift exit, seemingly proud of himself, leaving both silent for a long while.

  
Finally Harry plucked up the courage and spoke, “Is there anything you want to tell me professor?” Snape walked towards the portraits on Dumbledore’s wall. He strode silently. He took a long look before sighing.

  
“You were embarrassed by my actions today Potter?” Snape breathed out. Harry paused, he wasn't quite sure what to say.

  
“Yes. I was.” With Harry's words, Snape turned around. Harry had always admired his professor's ability to hold his head high and move with such arrogance.

  
“I apologise. I hadn't intended to embarrass you. I definitely hadn't intended for my actions to be misconstrued as anything more. Mr Weasley seems to believe that I am some sort of pervert. Is this your assumption as well?” Harry had never spoken to this level with his professor before, it was awkward Harry feared that he'd say something wrong.

  
“No. I know, I think Ron was being overprotective. He's been like this for a while now.” Harry didn't know why and he knew that Ron probably wasn't aware of his change in behaviour but if he wasn't careful it'd cause great amounts of trouble.

  
“I'm glad you don't see me that way. I can handle Mr Weasley.” The room fell silent once more. Harry wasn't sure whether the conversation was over and if they needed to deliberate on anything more. “You feel that I am unnecessarily harsh on you, am I correct?”

  
“More so than anybody else.” Snape nodded his head, he knew that he had been for the past few years. It was a matter of controlling it which is hard and he struggled to maintain his thoughts and feelings.

  
“I do believe that I am harsh on you, the extent of which I think is exaggerated. You have great potential Pott- Harry. I just hope you don't waste it.” Harry was put off by his professor calling him by name, he'd never done that before. It wasn't easy for Snape either, to use the name felt odd on the tongue.

  
“Sometimes you can go a bit easier on me...” Harry trailed off, fearing that his professor may bite back if he mentioned the times in which his niceness was questionable.

  
“From now on, I shall but it won't be to the extent you wish. If you feel my actions are irrational or unreasonable, in the future you need only tell me in private.” Why his professor was being so kind was beyond him. It was strange and Harry didn't like it. “I would also like to give you tutoring. From what I've seen today, you aren't half as bad as I previously thought. It is a skill that I think you'll perhaps make a future from.” Harry metaphorically took a step back, astonished by the offer.

  
“Me? Wouldn't your time be best spent with somebody like Hermione? She's brilliant.” Snape strolled back over to Harry. He placed a hand on his shoulder.

  
“Her heart isn't in anything she does. With time, you'll develop a passion for the art that is potions making.” The offer was extremely tempting, it was almost too good to believe being on the table.

  
“One-to-one?” He proposed.

  
“Obviously. Everybody would wish to join if I invited more than one. In these lessons I must stress the fact that I hate to waste time. If at any point I believe we are wasting time, I shall send you away and even potentially end our sessions.” Snape held out a hand for an affirming handshake. Harry hesitated but slowly met his professor's engagement.

  
“I don't mean to be such a nuisance. I don't try and deliberately annoy you professor. Maybe you get the wrong impression.” Harry felt the need to apologise, he knew that he often backtalked and became incapable to reason with. It was only just professor Snape who called him up on his attitude.

  
“Well...now you realise. You should be inclined to stop?” Professor Snape smirked, it had been the first time Harry had seen any sign of emotion other than anger on his professor’s face. It was a refreshing sight.

  
“I'll try my best.” Harry matched his teacher's expression, even laughing a little.

  
“Indeed?” Snape crooked a brow sarcastically questioning Harry's ability to improve himself in lessons. “Every Wednesday after dinner. I urge you not to be late.” The familiar creak of the office door echoed around the wide and open office.

  
“I trust all is well? I've come back to no bloodshed. This is a good sign.” Dumbledore held in his hand a slice of treacle tart. He had crumbs scattered in his beared suggesting that this wasn't his first and only slice of tart.

  
“Yeah. Everything is better now Professor.” Harry nodded happily.

  
“Off you go then Harry dear boy. I'll speak to Professor Snape alone if you don't mind?” Harry shook his head and did as he was told. He left the office and followed the staircase back downstairs.

  
“You wish to speak to me professor?” Snape regained his firm image and his frown returned.

  
“I do. I want to warn you that your infatuation for Mr Potter must not enter the school environment in any way. If a situation arrises, you know I won't be able to help you. Incidents such as this must not happen again.” Snape’s heart clenched within his chest walls. He was ashamed of his feelings, his deep love for Lilly had uncontrollably led to an estranged and unknowing love for her son who bare her very image.

  
“I know headmaster. I was foolish. It will never happen again.” Snape swung his robes and marched from the office. His journey back in silence.


	13. Chapter 13

Ron stared down at the piece of parchment that taunted him. He had to write an apology letter tonight but felt very reluctant to do so. His vendetta against his potions professor still rattled him, the anger bubbled every time he phrased an opening line. He'd thought of sarcastically appologising, he'd thought of sending hate mail instead, or even simply sending the git a blank piece of paper. It served him right.

Ron wasn't brave enough, he was in hot water as it is - this very moment McGonagall would be writing to his parents, telling them what he'd said and accused Snape of being/doing. That was enough, without adding fuel to the fire.  
He focused and began.

Dear Professor Snape

I'm sorry for my actions today in class. _Ron wasn't sorry. He belived his actions were fully justified. No matter what the outcome was of the investigation, if he ever saw Snape that close to Harry again he'd punch the guy - his grip had tightened on his quill unknowingly. The anger had been killing him, it would eventually if he carried on the way he was going, his blood pressure would cause major eruption of veins and arteries, maybe even give him a heart attack._  
 _He took a deep breath and carried on, I should have never reacted in that way_ \- my anger got the better of me and it was irresponsible. I must have misunderstood the situation. _He'd seen what he'd seen with his own eyes. Nobody could tell him otherwise._  
Although, I do believe that you were picking on Harry unfairly when he seemed to be doing a good job. I don't want to question your methods Professor but I just feel that you need to lay off him a little - me on the other hand.... I know I've been a little slack and my work needs improving. I'll probably work better being partners with Hermione. I promise to make a noticeable improvement.  
_Writing the letter made him cringe, being so formal and spouting false promises was ‘icky'. It'd be a miracle if he paid more attention in class, if only Snape wasn't so boring he wouldn't have an issue. Although, he knew that last year his end of year potions grade was far from impressive and his father had expressed significant concern and emphasised his need for improvement._  
 _Ron signed the bottom;_ Once again Professor, I really am sorry. - Ronald Weasley

He sighed and folded up the parchment to fit it into the envelope before addressing it to his Professor. Ron chucked it on top of his trunk, disregarding it for the night. He hadn't seen Harry since dinner and it was drawing near in seven, he knew why Harry was missing. It didn't take a genius to figure that he was probably chatting with Dumbledore about what had gone on that day. He felt like giving into his foul mood and going to bed seeing as the dorms were silent. Either that or he'd put on a brave face and stroll into the common room and talk to Hermione. There hadn't been much talking since the incident.

Ron couldn't muster the energy or the apathy to move. He just lay on top of the covers despite being rather cold. He wasn't tired enough to fall asleep, whilst it was dark, his body knew to keep awake. Instead he fell into a state of daydreaming, staring intensely at the bedpost.

Harry finally came back, he spoke the Gryffindor password and entered into the common room. It was obvious that the year had been talking and everybody knew seeing as when Harry came into the room it fell silent. He looked around slightly confused and out of place. Ron was nowhere to be seen, it figured.

“Harry, how'd it go?” Hermione broke the silence and pulled Harry over to the side. She whispered, “Ron won't tell me anything.”

“I talked to Snape, he apologised for being so horrible to me. He's going to give me one-on-one tutoring.” Harry barely looked at Hermione, he was mentally preoccupied with finding Ron and talking things over.

“Well that's good isn't it?” Hermione was pleasantly surprised. She would have never thought that Snape would have apologised, let alone willingly take him on. It sounded completely out of character.

“Yeah, of course. So where's Ron? Is he in the dorm?” Harry skillfully deducted. Hermione stuttered as she spoke, not sure if Ron was ready to talk just yet.

“He's been in there for a while.” Harry left her standing by herself and followed the stairs upwards to the dorm rooms. Everybody below watched him make the trek and jumped when the heavy door slammed shut behind him. Harry slowly approached Ron's bed, Ron didn't acknowledge Harry's presence.

“You alright?” Harry spoke out awkwardly. Ron's eyes didn't withdraw from the bedpost. He simply nodded. There was a long silence in which the boys remained strangers to one another. “You're not though are you?” Harry prodded.

“No...not really.” Ron's voice was croaky having stayed alone with his thoughts for so long.

“What did Dumbledore say?” Ron shifted in his bed, still avoiding eye contact, this time he lay on his back facing the ceiling. He pondered on what to say.

“Just about how much of a git he was being to you - how he always is to you.” He released a heavy sigh, he didn't want to be so annoyed but his feelings were being projected onto Harry and the thought of seeing his best friend's face irked him.

“That's over now. I talked to him and he apologised.” Ron sat bolt upright. He seemed deeply angered, his already red cheeks brightening.

“He apologised? For what? For being a pervert or for bullying you for four years?” Harry was shocked by Ron's sudden tone, it wasn't often he heard Ron shout. When the words were directed at him it made his chest hurt and his stomach flip uncontrollably.

“Ron...he's not a pervert.” Harry cowered slightly, he was afraid of Ron's sudden temperament.

“I know what I saw, Seamus pointed it out - even he saw it!” He jumped off of the bed and approached Harry, his eyes blazing with fury.

“Saw what exactly?” Harry began to raise his voice a little, he knew how stubborn Ron was, he wasn't about to back down any time soon.

“He pressed himself against you! Could you not feel him there! Bloody hell Harry.” Ron pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. He was fed up with Harry's ignorance, how could he be so innocent and oblivious?

“Why do you care anyway? If I thought I needed to help I would have helped myself.” Ron was taken back, he had to carefully approach this before his anger got the better of him again and he spilled his biggest secret.

“I care about you Harry. You're my best friend. You can be bloody dense sometimes, from what everybody saw, that slimy snake was touching you Harry. Even if you didn't notice, everybody else did.” Ron was overwhelmed with guilt, he'd yelled at Harry despite his will power. He couldn't help but displace his anger. He softened his tone and relaxed his posture.

“Really?” Harry stopped and thought carefully. He hadn't noticed the misguided actions, he'd noticed people stop and stare but he assumed it was only due to Snape's embarrassing ridicule. Now that he thought about it, Snape was overly close, closer than need be. Although he didn't feel a victim to anything of the sort.

“Yes Harry. Even Hermione said that he shouldn't have done it. She's angry too you know.” She obviously hid it better than Ron. Harry now felt apologetic for disbelieving Ron and judging Ron's actions.

“That's not the impression that I got otherwise I would have done something.” Harry said shyly.

“Watch out Harry, he's a dirty old man.” Ron warned, with a cheeky smile. Ron pulled Harry towards himself and hugged him as tight as he could. He'd been so frustrated and with one simple motion his irks and jitters melted away. “I'm sorry.” he whispered calmly.

“You're like your mother you know Ron.” Harry chuckled, lightening the mood.

“My mum?” Ron frowned slightly.

“Yeah, she cares about me too much.” It was true, Molly was overly concerned about Harry, always making sure he was full to the brim, she always made him Christmas presents and he was always the first one to get a hug and kiss at the door when he came back with Ron - despite Ron being her actual son.

“You’re practically a Weasley.” Harry grinned, it meant more to him than anything could, that he was a welcomed member of the family.

“Snape said he'd tutor me, apparently I have a potential talent for potions.” Ron stook a small step back and crooked his neck. Harry sighed as he watched Ron's nostrils flare. Obviously this wasn't as over as he'd thought.

“You said no, right? There's no way he's just being nice.” Ron slowly shook his head as Harry refused to reply.

“Whatever's good for you Harry.” His tone implied otherwise but Harry took it on the chin and tried to ignore Ron's overdramatic response.

“Exactly, Ron. I need all the help I can get.” He admitted, despite Ron's growing glare.

“When does he want you?” Begrudgingly he went along, he was internally screaming, he wanted to shake Harry into thinking straight. Yet, he couldn't afford to argue with Harry for the second time tonight and more than anything he wouldn't want to fall out completely like at the beginning of the year.

“Wednesday after dinner.” Ron huffed loudly. He made nothing of it, knowing that Harry could give up on lessons as quickly as he gave up learning to play the guitar. It wouldn't be long before Harry and professor Snape were at each other's throats anyway.

“Of course he'd want you this Wednesday! He's basically letting slytherin win! The nerve!” Harry rolled his eyes sarcastically, there hadn't been a slytherin vs gryffindor match since the summer and it seemed that gryffindor were on a winning streak as of this far, beating both ravenclaw and hufflepuff.

“We've got plenty of good members Ron. They don't need me...I was thinking about quitting anyway.” Ron's jaw metaphorically dropped with shock. Harry had been contemplating his departure during Christmas, all of that time sitting on the sofa -ill- left him with plenty of thinking time.

“How comes?” Ron asked rather depleted.

“I need to focus on the tournament. I can't afford to injur myself the night before a trial.” Given Harry's hospital record, he'd barely made it through enough games, unscathed, to count on one hand. Although his mind wasn't on the trials at first, he couldn't risk halfheartedly walking into a trial and having a near death experience.

“We'll never find a better seeker than you mate.” Harry's eyes battered bashfully.

“Yeah maybe not.” Harry grinned honorably. He playfully nudged Ron's shoulder with his own to try and encourage the mood they had before.

“Just be careful Harry.” Ron warned tenderly. His heart panged with concern.

“Don't worry.” Harry needn't say anything, he knew that Ron had already received the message. He'd be just fine looking after himself.  
...........

Whilst both boys were on speaking terms, an awkwardness lingred in the air and more often then not it was Hermione who plucked up the courage to break the silences. Although, the boys could be like this on the best of days. Things were especially quiet after what had happened at lunch that following day.

“Stop picking at that thing Ronald. It'll only get bigger and you'll scar.” Ron rolled his eyes at Hermione’s motherly advice. It was too late, his boy hormones were giving him ache and of course he couldn't leave his face alone, making the blemish on his chin bleed.

“Gosh ‘Mione. You're just lucky, if you had ‘em you'd know.” Hermione was particularly lucky, luckier than most. She thanked her muggle facial scrubs and her foundation for that, they worked like a charm to keep the breakouts away especially during exam season.

“I still wouldn't pick at my face.” She snapped back. Ron glanced over at Harry, asking for his penny's worth. He didn't say anything but offered a sympathetic smile. “If you promise to leave it alone I'll give you something to calm it down.” She relayed from behind her news paper.

“Yeah?” Ron cocked a brow, keen to get rid of the spots on his face. Hermione had little time to reply as owls began to flap over their heads. Dropping parcels and letters, one by one each student received something. Ron recognised his owl, having had much experience with the clumsiness of the bird he instinctively winced, expecting the worse. Instead the owl dropped a letter, wrapped in a red envelope. It had nothing more than ‘Ronald Weasley' written on the front in big frustrated letters. He gulped.

“Open it Ron.” Hermione nudged. Her fierce scowl prompting Ron to take the leap and break the wax seal on the envelope. It fritzed out of his hands and began to stir on the table. Just as he feared, his parents parents has sent him a howler. The letter growled at him, he watched with embarrassment.

“Ronald Weasley! I am utterly disgusted with your behaviour! I raised a child with manners and respect, I was beyond mortified to hear that you profusely insulted your teacher! I hope that you've apologised to Professor Snape, if you let things affect your education I'll have to bring you home. Do. You. Understand?” With a final hiss, the letter tore itself up. Staring blankly, Ron felt overwhelmed with embarrassment. Singers and scowls burned wholes in the back of his head, very few felt sympathetic.

“What does she mean by ‘thing's?” Hermione pinched Ron’s arm, waking him from his reclusive state.

“What?” Ron shrugged. Hermione gave Harry an inquisitive look, expecting him to ‘spill the beans' on Ron's behalf. Harry shook his head, he wasn't about to bust Ron's balls especially now in the middle of the great hall.

“You'd tell us if anything was up right?” Having known Ron for as long as she had, she knew that the chances of squeezing anything from the lad would be easier than getting blood from a stone.

“What, there's nothing up. Let's just drop it ‘Mione...” She pestered no more. Feeling slightly angry, but unwilling to argue, she fell silent. Ron brushed the shredded pieces of paper onto the floor and grabbed a slice of toast as the rail drifted past. Harry awkwardly glanced between Ron and Hermione, the tension between the two was heavy and Harry simply sat on the sidelines.

“Ron, was that your parents?” Thankfully Neville broke the silence.

“Yeah, after yesterday. Its all sorted now though.” Ron had felt reassured after he had discussed things with Harry yesterday. Today he'd woken with a smile, despite the howler, he still felt relatively merry.

“You're lucky, as it goes, I mean. If I had done that, my nan would have been come straight to the school and dragged me away.” The idea terrified him. Ron had let the thought loom last night after talking to Dumbledore, that his parents would come, string him up by his earlobes from the terraced porch.

“You we're great though Ron. Totally deserved it!” Seamus reached out for a high five, “Its not easy to stand up to a teacher. I salute you.” Ron did not return the gesture. Seamus withdrew his hand immediately.

“How's Viktor and yourself Hermione?” Neville’s cheery grin made Hermione slightly red in the face. It seemed like everybody wanted to lean in and hear their latest gossip.

“I've been helping him study.” She put flatly.

Fred, who was leering over her shoulder interjected, “Studying? Is that it?” He planted himself beside her.

“He asked for my help with Charms and muggle studies...” She trailed off, not knowing quite what Fred was hunting at. In her mind, studying was a perfect way to spend time with Viktor, it wasn't like she had sex on the brain and Viktor was a perfect gentleman; despite a few stolen kisses, he'd never impose anything.

“So you're his teacher?” Fred once again teased.

“Oi you, leave her alone.” Ginny slapped her brother upside the head, “he's a romantic. Always buying her flowers and kissing her hand like a queen.” Ron choaked on his piece of sausage. He reached out for his glass of pumpkin juice to wash it down. The damage had been done and everybody was staring.

“Honestly, Ron...” His sister shook her head with disappointment. She and Hermione exchanged a quick glance that went unnoticed. Ron's actions could only further prove the theory the two had discussed before Christmas.

“What? Bloody Viktor this, Viktor that...its all you girls talk about.”Hermione began to frustratingly bit down on the skin on her lower lip, trying to prevent herself from going off on Ron.

“You'd surely know how I felt if you too could experience more feelings than; hunger and fatigue Ronald Weasley!” She shot up from her seat, grabbing her satchel. “If you'll excuse me.” She angrily turned her back on the others and trudged out of the hall.

“Well done Ron. You've got such a way with the ladies.” Fred laughed to himself.

“Who has?” The other twin appeared, hooking his arm around his brother's neck.

“Our darling brother, cocking things up as usual.” Ron was trying desperately to ignore his brothers. He was only too used to their endless mocking.

“Some brotherly advice, if you like the girl then tell her. Stop pulling her pigtails and pushing her in the playground.” Even if they only meant it as a joke, Ron couldn't help but feel enraged. The twin's rampant rampantlaughter drilled into his head. “We're only joking, don't get hissy.” George added, seeing his brother’s face crease with infuriation.

“I don't fancy Hermione! I couldn't give a toss who she ends up with! Merlin's sake, I won't ever be interested in Hermione, she's like a sister. Now will you two leave off?” His brothers were taken back by Ron's outburst. Ron, however, felt like a weight had been somewhat lifted. Amongst the other loads he had to bear this was finally off his chest.

“You have to admit that you did at one point! I know you did.” Ginny crossed her arms across her chest and leant in, her eyes penetrating his soul.

“While were out with it, yes I did. Once. That's over now, I've got somebody else on my mind.” Without noticing Hermione make an entrance, he spoke freely and openly.

“Ronald...” Hermione muttered.

“Hermione, I didn't see you there.” Ron peered through the gaps in his bangs, his head low. Paralyzing embarrassment washed over him and he felt speechless. Hermione on the other hand rushed ober to give Ron a hug, she embraced him with warmth in her arms.

“Let's talk.” Hermione held Ron's hand and dragged him out of the hall. Ron kept his eyes on Harry as he was pulled away. Hermione took him outside, the winter winds were still cold but it meant that the grounds were empty. “So...” She Began, not entirely knowing what to do - for once.

“So...” He repeated.

“Of course it would have been nice to have been informed in person.” A wide smile spread across her face. It lightened the mood somewhat.

“Didn't know how to tell you.” He admitted bashfully.

“And you're over me? That is, you no longer want a relationship with me?” Hermione rocked back on her heels with her hands planted on the wall. She looked ahead, not seeing much past the Scottish fog.

Ron knew what needed to be done, whilst he had the confidence to speak he took a deep breath and opened his mouth. At first the words came out as a faint whisper, it was irksome. He tried again and this time the words were a little more discernable but still too quiet to make out. “You okay Ron? You still haven't answered my question.” She watched Ron mutter to himself.

He took another breath in and exhaled, his breath visible with the cold. Clearing his mind he began again, Hermione of all people would be supportive. “I don't think I like girls.” He regretted opening his mouth, he could have put it so much better.

“Oh.” She was shocked, and rightly so. It was something she had never expected.

“Yeah. I've told Harry.” Hermione nodded, still rather speechless.

“How do you know, if you mind me asking? I was under the impression that you were very much into women.” Hermione turned to face her best friend. Her face riddled with confusion but with an open heart, ready to hear her friend out.

“Its complicated. I've had crushes on girls, I still find them attractive. Those Beauxbaton girls are pretty and all, but I've got feelings for a this one person in particular.” Whilst it was mildly awkward, telling Hermione was helping relive some of his pent up resentment towards her and Viktor.

“Would you mind telling me who it is? Or will you leave me to guess.” Hermione squealed anxiously. A million and one names popped into her head, each more unreasonable than the last. With nothing to go on she could only make speculations.

“I don't know if I'm ready to tell you yet.” He sighed.

“Is it somebody we know? Is that too much of a give away? Or is it somebody so unthinkable - Malfoy! Is it Malfoy?” Ron rolled his eyes, he couldn't help but chuckle. Hands flew to Hermione’s mouth, she gasped, “it is!”

“No, its not. Harry asked me the same thing. Do you two not know me at all? Why would I go for a bloke like Malfoy? Pompous git.” There'd be no way that he'd allow himself to fall for a wizard like that. Luckily he has better tastes in men.

“Let me just ask you this,” Ron nodded, “its not Viktor is it?” Her voiced seemed deeply concerned. She'd plucked pieces of a puzzle together to form what she thought was a reasonable conclusion based on what she'd seen.

“Don't worry Hermione I don't have the hots for Krum.” He did, in a fanboy sort of way. He saw Krum as an idol at most, not a teenage heartthrob.

“So, this guy...we must know him. I won't pry more than I already have. I promise. When you're ready to tell me you will, won't you?” She glared at him with a warning finger thrust into his face.

“Of course.” He replied.

“Do you think you have a chance with whoever it is? Is he gay too?” The words echoed around in his chest, circling his heart.

“Not likely. It's probably a silly little crush. Hormones and what not.” Ron tried to justify his feelings rationally. It would, in the end, help cushion the blow. Limiting his feelings down to chemical imbalances and puberty rather than anything real.

“I suppose you are only 14. Nevertheless, if somebody is making you feel how strongly you do and is making you question who you are inside, I'd wager that this is more than just testosterone. Even in the end, if the person doesn't wish to be romantically involved, you know a little more about yourself than you did before.” Hermione had made perfect sense. Before, Ron was adamant that he was going to settle down with some bird - at the time, Hermione- and have a Weasley hoard of children. However, since recent, maybe the life he had pictured isn't the one he actually wants.

“Thanks 'Mione.” Ron once again welcomed her open arms.


	14. Chapter 14

Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward his first session with his potions Professor. With all of the drama happening at the moment, it was a relief to be studying in a quiet environment, one which wouldn't give him a headache. Since yesterday morning Harry hadn't been able to catch a break from the continuous chatter among the younger ones, the hounding questions about the tournament and the relentless interrogation from Hermione. He knew his year was going to be pretty bizzar and potentially life threatening but that seemed to be a steady norm, he wasn't expecting drama.

Dinner had gone down well and that meant Harry was expected at Snape's classroom shortly after. He had just enough time to grab his books and run back. Harry had made his was much too eagerly resulting in a lengthy wait outside the locked room.  
“Potter, I'm surprised you even remembered our arrangement.” Harry lifted his head from resting on his knees. He'd been sitting for so long that his cheek had a red imprint from his trousers. 

“Of course.” Harry stretched up right. Snape unlocked the classroom door and swiftly made his way inside. Harry followed closely behind. “We'll be going down to my private study.” Harry gulped a little, being that far away from the door was a little frightening. Down the endless staircase they went. Harry had never been in this room, it was dark, darker than the usual classroom. There was also a thick muggyness to the air and everything smelt old. There was only one bench and around them were vials filled with potions that must have overflowed from Snape's personal store. “Today we're going to work on the Pepperup potion. Tell me, what is the primary use of such potion?” 

Harry shrugged, he hadn't read so far into the text book yet. “I don't-” Harry began. 

“Then I suggest you open your texbook.” Harry fumbled for his bag. Snape's eyes burning wholes into the crown of his head. Still Snape managed to smirk, albeit, at Harry's ability to be so unprepared. Finding the book he began to flip through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. “Well?” 

“Its a potion to cure the flu?” Harry read from the page. His answer was followed by a round of sarcastic applause. 

“May I insist that you read the rest of the chapter before next lesson? I will not be following the book in any particular order. You must be prepared.” Harry sighed deeply, he didn't know that these lessons would work out to be so much work, especially from the get go. 

“Yes.” He huffed. 

“Yes, Professor.” Snape corrected. With an arched brow he glared down at the boy in front of him. Harry rolled his eyes into the book as to not be seen. He didn't give Snape the satisfaction and refrained from making a snarky comment. “I'll read you the list of ingredients and you'll have to find them among the collection on the shelf. It should be easy, nothing you haven't come across. I guess this will test exactly how much you've paid attention.” Snape felt particularly proud of himself. His devilish plan was sure to catch the younger one out.

“Bicorn Horn.” Snape sat on the corner of the bench with the book in hand. Harry luckily knew what this ingredient looked like, it would be pretty hard to forget what a horn looks like. Snape was not surprised that the boy found it. 

“Mandrake Root.” Harry gazed at the shelf, there had to be six different roots all lined up. Harry squinted to try an read the label under each root, a combination of wear and tear and the darkness of the room made it impossible to dissern. He reached out and grabbed one, the lightest coloured root. 

“You've been lucky this time, Potter.” 

“I thought that we agreed, you wouldn't call me ‘Potter' anymore?” Harry snapped back. Snape jumped up off of the table. His tone more fierce than before. 

“English Thyme.” He ignored Harry's interjection. Harry gritted his teeth and drifted back to the shelf. He thought, 'thyme should be easy enough.’ That is until he actually looked. Everything looked the same, he was stumped yet again. 

“Harry, have you yet to find it?” Harry's eyes exploded, he'd heard his name from his Professor's lips before, but this time it shocked him enough to make his heart skip a beat. Was it freight? The smile that kept up on his face told him otherwise. 

“I find that herbs are the hardest to differentiate between. It takes a trained eye and a keen sense of smell. None of the herbs on the shelf are noxious, I invite you to smell each one, thyme has a citrus smell.” Harry follows Snape's orders and begins to pop the cork on the bottles. Taking each in turn, lifting them to his nose awkwardly, knowing that His teacher was watching from behind. “This one.” Harry puts the used bottles back and brings the thyme over to the table. 

“I've done you the favour of finding the last two ingredients. Time is drawing on and you must be back before curfew.” All of the ingredients lay on the table next to the cauldron. “I'll read you the recipe and you shall follow it, word by word or else the potion will be null.” Harry nodded eagerly. “The first step with any potion is to?” Snape quizzed. 

“Boil the water.” Harry answered, he wasn't an invilid. 

“You're teachable at least then Port- Harry.” Snape was making a conscious effort to remember the name change but after having refered to James as Potter and by extension, Harry, it was hard to change his behavior so quickly. “First step, the horn needs to be ground into a fine powder.” Harry picked up the horn and snapped it in half with the pestle. In the mortar he begins to grind the two pieces It was hard work, sweat building. 

“Phew...” Harry huffed. He whiped the sweat from his palms onto his robes. The horn was still far from being a refined powder. 

“Potions making is hard work, anybody foolish enough to think otherwise surely have never experienced the art.” Snape took the pestle for himself, Harry had never noticed how rough his Professor’s hands were, it surely was the case that being a potionsmaster was not easy.

“Make sure you crush then grind against the sides. With soft hands like yours, I'd expect nothing less than the slow pace you're working at.” Harry wasn't sure whether he should take offense to the remark, rather than question his Professor's intentions he musters on. 

“Is there no easier way?” Harry knew that Wizarding folk liked to stick to the books, being rather ignorant to any muggle inventions. 

“You find that performing charms significantly reduces the quality of a potion. As the muggles say; 'blood, sweat and tears', am I well informed?” Snape pushed aside the mortar, satasfied with the outcome. “Step two; add two pinches of the bicorn powder.” Harry did so, he took a small amount between his fingers, looking up for his Professor's approval. Snape nodded and Harry put the ingredients into the cauldron. 

“Next?” Harry awaited further instructions.

“Eager now are we Mr Potter? Anybody would think you were enjoying yourself.” Snape mocked sarcastically. For some strange reason Harry found impossibly hard not to blush, his cheeks filling with blood. 

“Having you as a tutor isn't as awful as having you as a mean dungeon bat teacher.” Harry bit back. Of Snape was in his right mind he'd slap the child with a book, however, he wasn't. He hadn't been for a long time. He d developed a soft spot for Harry and for a while he hadn't known how to express his fondness, it often came out with anger and rage. Now, things were beginning to change. 

“I'm glad to know what you think of me.” Harry smiled, that smile Snape adored but rarely had the pleasure of seeing. “Let's continue, you'll need to skin the mandrake root with the peeler.” Harry huffed, peeling potatoes was a hard enough task let alone peeling a mandrake root which Harry best described as a deranged carrot. 

Harry tried his best to remove every inch of skin from the root, even with a particularly blunt peeler. That is until his inherent clumsiness got the better of him and his fingers slipped, effectively scraping away some of the skin on his knuckle. Only he was unlucky enough to injur himself on a blunt piece of plastic. Of course his knuckle began to bleed, drawing Snape's attention to the form flesh. 

“What will I ever do with you Mr Potter, incapable of even the simplest of tasks. It frightens me to think of what you'll make of yourself when you leave school, when there are no teachers at your side and a medi-witch down the hall.” Snape grabbed Harry by the wrist and dragged him over to the sink where there he ran the tap, shoving Harry's hand underneath. 

“Its not like I did it on purpose.” He called out in defense. The cold water stung the wound which made him wince a little. 

“Tergeo.” Snape waved his wand over the cut on Harry's knuckle to dry away the blood that started to pool once again. Then he cast another charm, “Episkey.” Which immediately healed the open sore. Harry flexed his finger a few times and the pain had gone. He was grateful for living with magic, a simple muggle plaster would have been annoying and inefficient. 

“Thanks...” Harry stuttered. He looked up at his Professor who had eyes still examining for any further damage. 

“I should think so too.” Snape released the hand and Harry drew it in for himself to see how well the spell had worked. Of course his potions Professor did a more than adequate job leaving no visible evidence of what was once there. 

“I'll have to remember that one. Then that way I won't have to rely on Madam Pomfrey.” Snape felt a pang of guilt after having been so mean to Harry only moments ago. The adjustment to being nice for a change wasn't as of yet perfect. Even still, he was slightly angry at Harry for being so careless, hurting himself. Hurting his delicate, fragile - Snape shook the thoughts away. Unruly and unkempt was a man who let his feelings run rampant, Snape was not that kind of man, nor would he ever be after feeling love's keen sting. 

“You will do quite well to remember it. Professor Flitwick clearly isn't teaching pertinent charms.” Snape resented most teachers within the school, he hated the current curriculum and how it disregarded the need for essential lessons on things entirely needed in real life. Hogwarts had banned sex education, failed to teach bare basics of spells and disregarded the older, more fundamental punishments. Teachers had gone soft, teaching from a text book, not teaching from experience. 

“I suppose it would have been helpful. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey would appreciate people like me not waltzing in every day with something like a bloody nose.” Harry had to admit, he was in the hospital wing more than most other students, so much so that Madam Pomfrey would sigh in anguish when he opened her door. ‘What is it now Mr Potter?’ She would shake her head and tut at his arrival. 

“Indeed.” Snape put before returning back to the potion.

“Your mandrake root seems good enough, if you will, chop it into three.” Harry picked up a knife, he was hesitant at first knowing that a cut from a knife would be worse than a scrape from a peeler. He had to be careful before Snape hexed him for being so clueless. Snape squinted and squirmed waiting for Harry to break through the thickness of the root, he was anxious that Harry would again make another mistake and this time, lose a finger. After the third chop he opened his eyes, the lack of bloodcurdling screams was very reassuring. 

“Now what Professor?” Harry immediately put down the blade, carelessly waving it around was a bad idea. 

“Add the mandrake root to your cauldron. And turn the heat up to a medium.” Harry dropped the three pieces in, each one splashed a little before floating to the top. Snape shook his head disapprovingly. “You'll need to be more careful, had it been a more dangerous potion, you could have lost an eye.” Harry hadn't thought about it before, he'd simply backed away with each drop to avoid the splash back. “You'll need to leave this to brew for thirty minutes. If you need to use the little boy's room I suggest you do so. If not, a cup of tea would go down quite nicely.” 

“Tea?” Harry couldn't believe that his potions Professor was being so hospitable, offering to make him a cup of tea was the last thing he thought he'd hear from his teacher's mouth. Never would he have thought that Snape would request his company. 

“Yes, the drink. Need I remind you what tea is?” Snape ignored the boy and swiftly made his way back upstairs. Harry closely followed. Back they were in the classroom until Snape opened a second door adjacent to the first. Again, Snape’s office was down a winding set of stone stairs, they reached the bottom where Snape pulled out a key to unlock the door. 

Harry looked around the room once the door had fully opened. It was not at all as he expected. Snape's office was warm, lit by a fireplace. The glow from the flames illuminated the entire room revealing an old tatty armchair that looked physically exhausted, and piles of books that were scattered in no particular order. It was weird, Harry didn't want to invade his teacher's personal space, he lingred by the doorway. 

“You may come in. Or are you rather comfortable standing there?” Harry didn't reply, instead he stook a few steps in and the door closed behind him. “I do have my own office, with my own chambers. I do not sleep hung to the ceiling in the dungeons, unlike popular belief.” Snape scoffed, he was aware of what the students thought, confiscated notes and doodles on books painted a very clear picture. 

“Are students even allowed down here Professor?” Harry queried. He'd never even noticed the door before of which led them down to the deepest part. He'd never seen anybody come in or out before. 

“No. I like my private space, I would not like it so much if it were infested by students.” Snape turned on the gas lit lamp in the small kitchen, he shook the kettle to see how much water was inside. Unsatisfied, he filled it up and lit the stove. With a wave of his hand two cups made their way from the cupboard, a tea bag in each. “Sugar?” Snape asked. 

“Yes, thank you Professor.” Two bricks of sugar placed themselves into either of the cups. Despite his harsh outward nature, Snape liked his teas sugary and milky. It surprised Harry that Snape didn't just have black tea. 

“Here.” Snape carried the two cups carefully over to the sitting room. “If you would like to sit? I'll not have you standing for half an hour.” Harry cautiously sunk into the armchair, the bottom cushion dipped slightly due to its extensive use. Harry sat uncomfortably with his back straight and feet firmly on the floor. 

“It must be quiet down here Professor.” Harry began, the two hadn't said anything for quite some time. Snape had simply been sipping from his cup. 

“Quite.” Harry knew that despite the distance, Snape could still hear things, ears like a bat. He'd caught Harry roaming around the castle a few times, telling him off in his nightwear and a gown. 

“Is this what you do in your spare time?” Harry looked at the extensive collection of books, so haphazardly left on the floor, resting on tables, even on the arms of the chair he was sitting in. 

“Read? Yes. You might like to try it some time. I know Mrs Granger likes to read, by now, she should have extended her hobbies to you.” Harry took that as an insult, but he could hardly be offended. He never read. 

“I've read Quidditch books...” He revealed  
absentmindedly. Snape chuckled, Harry immediately belt embarrassed. 

“I see. It might be in your interest to pick up something valuable.” Snape put his cup down on a coaster. He shot up and began scouring the room for something, checking shelves and crouching next to lumps of books. Harry watched as his teacher frantically searched. He'd never imagined his teacher to be so disorganised. He eventually found it. It was a book like Harry had discerned, but he didn't recognise it from the cover. 

“This book is a great first read if you're interested in the pursuit of potions making. I believe that it was this book, Linfred of Stinchcombe; Biography. He's a relative of yours Harry.” Harry greatfully took the book. 

“A relative? Who was he?” Harry knew nothing about his family, having been raised outside of the wizarding world, he was oblivious to his extensive family history. 

“A descendant from the 12th century, a revolutionary potioneer and herbologist.” Snape had read the book many times, he could recite the information word-for-word. Harry's eyes seemed to gleam with excitement at the very thought of having extraordinary family. 

“It's a wonder why I'm so bad at potions making.” Harry accepted the book, whilst fragile and clearly worn out, he was honored to be given one of Snape’s prized possessions. 

“If it's in your blood then you have very little excuse. I do feel that with time your talents for the art will be greatly improved.” Harry found that hard to believe. Yet he had a gleam of high hope, Quidditch was in his blood too and he was a great player, maybe this was just another talent he hadn't yet discovered. “I do believe its time to return to our potion.” Back they went. The moment Harry got back to the table he put his new book safely away in his satchel. 

“It smells...” Harry chocked on the intoxicating smell that hovered around the cauldron. 

“Disgusting, I know. Tastes far worse. I can ensure you of that.” Harry didn't find that much of a stretch. Most potions tasted horrible seeing as artificial flavorings would potentially change the effects of the potion or destroy it completely. “Part 2, nice and straight forward, and three sprigs of the thyme.” Harry picked three off careful not to unnecessarily use more than he needed.  
“Now stir four times anti-clockwise.” Harry took the wooden spoon and began to stir. He'd remembered the lesson he'd learnt from the other day, making sure that he used wide movements rather than barely breaking surface tension. “Well done.” Whilst Snape had been incredibly ashamed of his actions in the classroom, he was glad that his message was not lost. 

“Maybe I might just have a knack for this after all, Professor?” Harry teased. 

“It's more so the case of having a rather excellent teacher. Would you not agree?” The two laughed at one an other. Equally agreeing upon the fact that Snape was a good teacher, perhaps if Harry had known that from the beginning, he wouldn't be behind. “Now, this requires the utmost precision. You'll need five drops of salamander blood, not four or 6.” A drop was rather subjective and Harry knew that his luck had been going strong for far too long.

“Maybe you should do it Professor.” Harry insisted, giving the vial to his professor. Snape folded his arms across his hands and refused to touch the vial.

“It is your potion. How will you learn if I do the work for you?” Snape bellowed down from behind tightly drawn lips. Harry shook his head and bit down on the his bottom lip, something of which Hermione brought to his attention, he'd picked it up from Ron and promised himself he'd stop. 

“Alright...” Off came the cork from the vial. The vial had a small V point to help him control the amounts better but he couldn't help feeling anxious. He steadied his hand and lifted the vial over the bubbling cauldron. He held his breath and tilted the blood, at first it rushed to the tip too quickly and Harry pulled back. He concentrated and began again. One drop. Two drops. Three drops. Four drops. Five, five drops. Exhaled with relief. 

“Was that worth the fuss?” His professor patted him on the shoulder for his good work. Harry could feel his confidence rising, given time he'd have an ego to rival his own potions master's. “This is the last step, which also requires a level of concentration. Each of the fire seeds beends to be dropped with three second intervals.” Harry picked up the jar of seeds swirled them around in the bottom. With tongs he pinched out three seeds, Snape had warned the class about the dangers of using fire seeds before and he wasn't stupid enough to burn his hands picking them out one by one. 

Once he'd lied the four seeds in a row he picked up the first, gently lowering it in, with Snape’s wisdom floating around in his head. He picked up the second and after the three seconds he put it in. He did this until all four were safely in the cauldron. He celebrated to himself mentally, if Snape wasn't in the room he probably would have jumped for joy, fist bumping the air. 

“I was pleasantly surprised by your skills today Harry, I can trust you'll bring this degree of competence to every lesson?” Snape enquired seriously. He had been impressed with Harry tonight and expected that he would bring his A-game to each and every lesson. 

“Of course.” Harry felt so exhilarated, he was too impressed that he hadn't messed things up. It only gave him more of a drive if anything else. 

“Of course, Sir?” Snape frowned. 

“No need to call me Sir, Professor.” Harry replied cheekily. The creases of Snape’s from deepened. He reached over and Harry jumped out of the way, expecting a slap. Instead Snape only turned off the heat source to the cauldron. 

“You're lucky that I promised civility, otherwise I would have deducted ten house points.” Snape warned, this time his expression a lot softer. Harry had witnessed a noticeable change in his professor, however he doubted it would extend to the normal, eevery day classroom where he would no doubt put his front back up. “It's past your curfew, I must escort you back to your dormitory. I can not allow you to walk the castle alone at night.” The clock in the office read the time to be half 9, almost an hour after he was supposed to be back in the Gryffindor common room. 

Harry and Snape made their way back up the treacherous stairs, in the moment Harryhad considered another benefit from the extra sessions, a heafty work out. Grabbing his satchel, he and Snape continued on with their journey, eventually stopping in front of the Fat Lady. 

“Thank you for today Professor.” Harry extended a hand to his teacher, expecting a hand shake in return. 

“It was my pleasure, Harry.” Snape excepted the gesture and they shook hands. It was awkward, and Harry's cold hands against Snape's surprisingly warm ones made the exchange a little uncomfortable. The exchange was over quickly. Snape spun on his heels and made a swift exit for the stairs. Harry waited and watched his professor disappear from sight before whispering the password. The Fat Lady let him in. 

Harry noticed that the common room was particularly quiet, for half nine, he expected more people to be out of bed, studying by the fire. He did happen to look over at the fireplace, it reminded him of the friendly warmth Snape's gave off. As he focused, he noticed a leg draped over the arm of the sofa. Somebody had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace. He moved closer to wake the person up, sleeping here would only give you a stiff neck. 

The large yellow R on the sock gave way to who the snoring Gryffindor was. He crept over. Ron looked extremely peaceful, his face still and at rest. Something about him left him captivated, unable to withdraw to anything else. Perhaps it was the good mood he was in that left him so impressionable. Harry let his mind drift back to the last nightmare he had, where Ron had presumably hushed him back to sleep by slipping in beside him. He also clearly remembered the kiss Ron had given to his forehead, whilst unconscious in a dream. Ron had looked the same then as he did now.  
As his legs began to ache, he thought it best to wake his best friend up. Whilst he couldn't fully explain to himself why he'd spent ten minutes adoring over Ron, he had decided that sleep was probably a much needed answer. 

“Ron.” He whispered. Ron didn't respond. Harry was used to his friend's dream induced coma, Molly would have to scream the house down before Ron would even flutter an eyelid. Still, he kept on trying. “Ron.” He tried, a little loader this time. Harry progressed to shaking and gently slapping Ron in order to shock him awake. This tactic seemed to work and Ron shifted and eventually opened his eyes. 

“Harry...” He croaked out. It seemed as though Ron had been asleep for hours, he was surprised that Hermione left him down here all by himself. 

“Why are you here?” Harry asked, pulling Ron by the arm into a sitting position. Ron's body was heavy and limp. Ron's eyes readjusted to the light of the fire briefly before yawning. 

“I was waiting you you. Guess I kinda fell asleep.” Ron looked up at the clock on the wall, “blimey Harry, you just getting back?” Harry nodded. 

“Why did you wait for me? You could have gotten into bed.” Harry helped Ron to his feet, as the slightly taller teen extended his joints clicked and cracked after sleeping so rough. 

“I didn't think it was right sleeping without you. What if I needed to go crack some skulls?” Jokingly, Ron swung his arm around Harry's neck. “I don't do I?” Ron allowed Harry to guide him to the staircase. 

“No Ron, you're being stupid. Lets just get you into bed.” Ron stopped before they could climb the first step. 

“I'm not kidding Harry. Why's he keeping you so late anyway? What were you doing?” Harry noticed the sudden change in character. Ron was entering into his overly concerned friend mode. Ron didn't seem contempt with sleeping, still unknowing. 

“We were brewing a potion, Ron. These things take time.” Harry reassured. 

“You're okay though, nothing happened?” Ron was still on edge, he didn't trust professor Snape anymore and Harry fully understood his friend's scepticism. 

“I cut my finger but that's about it.” Ron yanked Harry's arms, almost hard enough to rip them from his body. 

“Snape healed the cut, it was tiny anyway.” Harry pointed to the tiny patch of light pink skin on his left thumb's knuckle. 

“How'd you manage that?” Ron asked, eyes filled with worry. 

“I was peeling a mandrake root and I slipped. The peeler was blunt so I don't know how I managed to hurt myself.” Ron gently rubbed the abrasion with his thumb, tracing the mark with admiration. 

“Only you'd manage something like that.” Ron smiled happily, rolling his eyes playfully. 

“Totally. The same guy who almost manages to almost swallow a snitch, gets eaten by a three headed dog and burned to a crisp by a dragon.” Ron and Harry made their way up the stairs, Ron had forgotten to let go of Harry's hand, not that Harry had cared enough to notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I've been absent for a while because of a Christmas job and the holiday seasons. I'm back and would love to hear you guys in the comments!


	15. Chapter 15

Morning had come around once more, as it did every day. Today was particularly dark, with grey clouds engulfing the sun. For 7 am, it seemed far more like the dead of night. Had it not been for the owls and early spring birds tweeting, most students would still be fast asleep, dribbling into their pillows. It was just another groggy day in Britain as many were used to during winter.

Harry's sleep cycle was was extremely regular, he never overslept and was always up and motivated. It was therefore a tell-tale sign that oversleeping meant that something was wrong. Ron on the other hand, would drag himself out of bed at half 7, get dressed, skip showering and trudge down to the hall. If it wasn't for Harry or Neville, Ron would probably sleep though breakfast and maybe even first period. That was even after being poked and prodded for an hour.

“Are you going to wake up or what?” Harry would never leave Ron to his own devices, he always waited for Ron to be ready every morning. Ron only groaned and tossed about. Sometimes Harry thought about leaving Ron, his stubbornness made him insufferable.

“Mnn, yeah.” He murmured, still making no effort to pull himself out of bed.

“Seriously Ron, breakfast’s already started.” The last resort would be physical violence. When Ron still wouldn't get up, even when Harry pulled off the blanket, he began to try and push Ron out of bed. Ron was a heavy lad but Harry's will was strong. It seemed that sometimes Ron would trade Harry and drive him into madness.

“Alright, alright.” Ron laughed, Harry's bony fingers digging into his sides, tickling him unintentionally. Grabbing arm arm to stop the torture, he pulled Harry over, yanking him over the bed. Harry froze, his eyes locked in place, fixed on Ron's.

“You...need...to...ermmm.” Energy was surging through his body, it was making his heart thump and his body temperature rise. He didn't understand why things like this kept happening, why he would get so anxious and nervous when accidents happened. Nothing made much sense anymore, it was like there had been a significant dynamics change between them, as if they were strangers again.

“Get up, yeah I know. You can stop bugging me now. I'm up.” Ron had been working on becoming desensitised to the connection. Getting him hopes up every single time they made any meaningful eye contact was excruciatingly painful. The moment lost its spark quickly.

“Right.” Harry slowly withdrew himself, sensing that whatever was there has since apporated away. “I'll meet you down in the hall.” Harry couldn't stand the akwarness that ripped apart the room. Filled with confusion and unexplainable heart ache he swept out of the room, his long robes swaying along the floor as he hurried away.

Harry's emotions and sanity managed to catch up to him after stepping out of the common room. He took a deep breath, shocked by his own emotions. Having never felt like this before, it was impossible for him to even contemplate being in love. Such a concept has never really crossed his mind before. Having never witnessed love between his own parents, and with Molly and Arthur's relationship was hardly one to base romance on. All Harry was able to take from the experience was that it was positive, he liked it. It reminded him of the dream he had before Christmas and the illness induced coma kiss that felt too real to have just been his imagination. Still he couldn't come to a single conclusion. When he reached the dining hall, he was met with a concerned scowl from his female friend. She had obviously been waiting for a while for the two to show up. The fact that Harry was alone only made her frustration more expressive.

“Where have you been?” She asked him, gesturing to her watch.

“I know Hermione. Ron wouldn't get up, I left him up there.” Harry avoided her invasive eye contact. Hermione watched on with a skeptical look, Harry's cheeks were red and his collar was proper up awkwardly. There seemed to be something more in the air that Harry wasn't letting on.

“Will he come down at all? He knows he's not allowed to skip meals.” Hermione persisted.

“I'm not his keeper Hermione. He'll come down.” She flinched slightly at Harry's tone of voice. In anguish he slumped down on the bench. Luckily he hadn't missed the post, he'd sent a letter to Sirius not too long ago and he was desperate to hear back from him. Under his psydonym, Padfoot, it was much easier and safer to exchange letters without the heavy weight of fear. Sure enough, Hedwig flew towards him in the sea of birds with a letter tied to his foot. Swooping down to the table she allowed Harry to carefully remove the note. Hedwig waited for further instructions, pecking at the food in the middle of the table.

“Who it It from?” Hermione whispered covertly. Harry didn't answer but instead gave her an answerable look. Harry unravelled the parchment and read the letter:

_Harry my boy, It's been a while since I've sent you a letter. This is well passed due. I wanted to ask how your Christmas was and whether you loved my gift - I have no doubts that you loved it. I trust that Molly took great care of you, fattening you up!_

_I've been waiting to tell you something very important, it may come as quite a shock. Remus and I are together - as in romantically. It hasn't been too long but it's an old flame from long ago that just never seemed to fade. He'd been extremely over protective lately and I asked him to answer me as to why, it felt just like before. Love is a tricky thing, I can tell you that much. Next time I see you I should probably explain the whole concept of love - you're old enough. Harry, never let love go. Its complicated, confusing and exciting. You may be too young to experience love but finding somebody that gives you palpitations and makes you unconditionally happy is rare. If you do have somebody in mind right now, make it know my son. Me and Remus missed out on so many golden years because of my imprisonment and because of my denseness._

_As my Godson I've entrusted you with this knowledge before anybody else. Feel free to tell your friends Ronald and Hermione. I just want you to know that I'm happy. Happier than I've been in a long time. I just wish I could have told you in person but as you well know, that's not an option at the moment._

_Which brings me to ask about the tournament. How's everything going? Figured out the clue? I won't pry, you probably get a lot of that as it is. I urge caution when replying to my letter. The ministry is too nosey for its own good - always has been. Write back as soon as you can so I know you're alright._

_Love Padfoot._

The letter left Harry in awe. In disbelief over what he had just read - his God father and his old defence teacher were now in a relationship. He understood that they had a history of close friendship and that they, alongside his father went to school together. He kept re-reading the letter over and over again. No matter how many times he read the letter, the impact was still the same. Harry wasn't a homophobe, he was raised in a prejudice household but he only resented his aunt and uncle for their ignorance. Harry was baffled by the news, utterly bewildered.

“What is it?” Hermione interrupted Harry's endless cycle of muttering. She was worried, the expressions on Harry's face seemed far from positive and it made her heart rate soar.

“Follow me.” Hermione picked up her things and quickly followed after Harry, leaving the hall and rushing into the court yard where they wouldn't be seen or heard by anybody. Harry couldn't wait to hand her over the piece of parchment.

As she read her frown softened, “he's dating? That's a good thing isn't it?” She asked, puzzled by Harry's reaction to the letter.

“Yeah, I guess. I'm just surprised.” This was perhaps the best news he'd heard in a long time. Usually all letters were discreetly depressing, with Sirius trying to mask his suffering with some sarcasm or anxious joke. Harry always saw through the positivity.

“He's happy, thats the main thing. His happiness is long overdue.” Hermione found the letter revealing. Sirius’ words seemed to lend themselves elsewhere which to her made an even greater revelation. Hermione was a smart girl, it didn't take much to be able to piece the signs together. From what she'd seen and what she'd heard was just evidence on an already forming theory that has been resignating at the back of her mind. Ron was in love with Harry. And that she was in love with Viktor. Both truths made her head spin and her toothy grin overwhelm her face.

\---Meanwhile---

Ron had gotten up shortly after Harry had left. The encounter he had put him off breakfast, he wasn't in the mood to eat, whilst he was desperately trying to control his emotions it was proving to be extremely difficult. After all, he was human. He decided to have a shower, clear his head and refresh the mind. After running the water, he stood, demotivated, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His own misery was beginning to make him depressed, he was constantly trying to overcome his feelings and pretend that they didn't even exist to avoid arousing suspicion. It was killing him already. Giving him stomach cramps, sleepless nights and migraines. He was absolutely love sick. It made him frustrated, frustrated enough to forcibly punch the glass mirror in front of him, shattering the mirror.

He instantly regretted his actions, whilst his hand was numb to the pain, blood trickled from the open wounds and into the sink below. He ran his hand under the cold tap but the blood didn't stop pouring. It was obvious after a gentle wash that he had a small shard of glass stuck in his index knuckle, with little knowledge on what to do about it, he simply cursed aloud “Bullocks.”

\----

“I'll see you later Harry. I've got to talk to Ron, immediately.” Her decision to leave do hastily made Harry sceptical.

“What for? Lessons start soon.” Harry reminded her, oddly her mind was too busy to care about lessons. “Never mind that, I'll meet you later.” Hermione left without explaining herself anymore than she had to, desperate to find Ron. As quickly as she could she rushed to the common room, climbed the stairs and began eagerly banging on the door to the boy's dormitory.

Being a girl, she was barred from entering the boy's room, this prevented any unplanned frivolity between students after hours. She called out for Ron, hoping he would still be inside, hoping that her voice was loud enough to be heard.

“Ron! Ron! Are you still in there?” She continued, heavily banging her fists against the door. “I've got something to tell you!” She feared Ron was hiding from her encase she yelled at him. Ron had heard her cries from beyond the door, he wrapped his fist in a towel to hide the injury, and slowly opened the door just enough to make face-to-face contact.

“What Hermione? I was about to get in the shower.” He told her, between coughs that tore apart his throat.

“Can you step out from behind the door? This is important.” Ron clenched his burning fist, contemplating what to do. “Well?”

“I'm naked.” He spat out, in a sorry attempt at a lie.

“No you're not, don't play games with me Ronald! Just come here, there's something important that I need to tell you.” He couldn't hide his position anymore, being hopeless at glamors he stood no chance of Hermione not noticing. He slipped out of the doorway, hiding his hand behind his back.

“What is that?” She grabbed his arm, pulling it towards her.

“Its nothing.” Hermione unraveled the towel, blood staining the layers wrapped around the flesh, progressively growing in size. She gasped loudly at the sight of Ron's mangled hand.

“What happened?!” She shrieked, immediately blotting the blood away with a non-soiled area of the towel.

“I fell.” He stuttered anxiously.

“You don't get something like this from a simple fall, there's glass all over your hand.” She inspected the open wound, grimacing at the extent of the damage.

“I said its nothing, just let it go.” Ron's hand wriggle in Hermione’s tough grip.

“Spit it out Ron, or I’ll take you down to Madam Pomfrey and she’ll slip something into your tea and make you talk.” She warned. Her wrath was a lot friendlier than the medi-witch’s and Ron knew it. Ron didn’t want to be sent down to the infirmary otherwise he’d have to tell them that he broke a mirror, he had been in enough trouble already this week.

“I punched a mirror, happy now?” Ron let the words slip out as if they were no big deal. Of course Hermione didn’t see it as such

“Is this because of Harry?” She asked boldly. Ron blushed, his cheeks burning a chestnut red, “It is isn’t it?” She badgered on.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He rejected.

“You’re not pulling one over on me Ronald Weasley, it’s obvious. Although, I’m ashamed of myself for not seeing it sooner,” She began to ramble on. Ron became ever more embarrassed, bouts of apprehension kicked in and his heart reach climaxed, being several times faster than physically human.

“Seeing what?” Gulping with every heavy breath he took, whilst still trying to act normal, supressing the heart burn and nausea beginning to accumulate.

“You love Harry.” The words made her smile, her professionally and religiously looked after teeth, blinding in an enthusiastic way. The revelation made her practically giddy, bubbling with excitement. “That’s who you wouldn’t tell me about.” Flashing back to when Ron had come out to her but refused to reveal who his crush was.

“You’re mental. Absolutely mental. He’s my best mate!” He cried out in defence. Hermione didn’t seem to buy into his performance, tilting her head to the side and coxing a disapproving brow.

“I am not crazy, Harry heard word from Sirius today, telling him that he and Remus were romantically involved.” The shocking truth distracted Ron’s mind for a brief moment. “From what I read, you’re acting just like Remus had done.”

“Remus and Sirius? Mum’s going to go nutty when she finds out.” Hoping to steer away from the awkward and uncomfortableness of the situation he was now.

“Don’t try and change the subject.” His efforts wasted, “Just tell me the truth. Are you in love with Harry?” Ron could see how serious she was, there wasn’t much point in lying. He trusted Hermione more than he trusted his own sister. Sharing the burden of carrying such an enormous secret was hard to sustain by himself.

“If it’ll get you off my back, then; yes, I am.” Hermione’s hands celebrated by her sides as she danced merrily on the spot. Ron rolled his eyes, she was perhaps overly excited. Unprecedented concern began to slightly crush him, fearful that Hermione would turn into a meddlesome friend.

“I knew it! Don’t worry, you’re secret is safe with me.” She couldn’t help but scoop him up into a hug. For a while she had underestimated him, wondering if he would ever get past gawking that the Bauxbatton girls and develop some real emotions. “I won’t even tell Viktor.” No matter how much she wanted to run to him at this very moment and spill her brains all over the floor. “Your hand!” She pulled away after hearing Ron wince as she lightly bumped into lacerated hand.

Hermione dug through her trunk, pulling out her muggle first aid kit, despite attending Hogwarts, her parents still made sure that she had the muggle essentials such as plasters, bandages, anti-septic spray and pain relief. Having learnt simple spells to heal minor wounds, she still wasn’t confidents enough to plug the holes in Ron’s hand. Even before she attempted any form of magic she had to pick the glass out from underneath the skin with her tweezers.

“You should really go to the hospital wing. I bet you wouldn’t be the first Gryffindor to punch in a mirror.” Ron shook his head reservedly. Hermione had since rinsed the clotting blood off of the wound and was ready play surgeon, “I’ll be careful.” Holding the hand, she gingerly began to pluck the shards of glass out of Ron’s skin.

Needless to say that it was extremely painful, piece after piece, until Hermione was satisfied that it was all gone. Only then could he open his eyes, upon first glance everything seemed disorientated because of how hard he clenched his eyelids shut.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you punch a mirror?” Hermione began ripping apart small balls of cotton wool to give the site a thorough clean in order to prevent infection.

“Frustrated, guess it got to me.” His words lacked the depth Hermione craved.

“Frustrated at what? It must have been something big for you to be this angry.” She popped the lid off of the anti-septic spray and shook the canister, “This will sting.” She forewarned. Of course it did and Ron squealed and withdrew his hand away from the mist.

“Bloody hell!” He blew on the grazes until the spray dried up, trying to shake away the burning sensation that resonated across his hand. “I can't do anything Hermione. Not a thing, so it makes me annoyed, y'know? I'm trying to set my head straight.” It was an unconcious decision he'd made after receiving the howler from his parents, his own feelings were going to get him into trouble. That, and after a really critical analysis, he came to the conclusion that somebody like Harry Potter was destined for greatness, a young, attractive and wealthy woman was somebody more to the Boy Who Lived's standards. Not a penniless ginger like himself.

“You're torturing yourself, you know that?” She felt like slapping Ron across the face, try and beat some sense into the boy.

“What good would it bring? He'd probably resent me if I told him, keeping him as a friend isn't work risking.” Ron had, had his fair share of worries before starting school, one of which was that he wouldn't be able to make any friends. Whilst he was a pureblood, his family was far from being recognised as such. Fred and George luckily had each other, Percy was friendless, and his brothers before him. Luckily he met Harry on the platform in Kings Cross Station, otherwise he was sure that he would be as lonely as ever.

“Do you even know Harry? He's supposed to be your best friend, you and I both know that he wouldn't hate you.” Hermione was done wrapping up Ron's hand with bandages, Ron wiggled and clenched his fingers judging the comfortability of the bandages.

“Suppose.” He replied in a heavy breath.

“You ought to tell him, at least if he declines, you can begin to move on. This maybe some closure and comfort for you.” If course Ron had thought about it, but every alternating scenario his proposed in his mind ended badly. This made him extremely reluctant to confess. He thought it brave of himself to even reveal that he was the other way inclined.

“How? How'd Viktor ask you out then?” Hermione shook her head with slight embarrassment.

“Rather boldly. I didn't quite understand him at first but he just sort of grabbed my hand and shooed away all of his friends.” Feeling hot in the face she continued, “he repeated his words, ‘never have I met somebody as beautiful as you, do you want to date me?’” She put on her best Viktor impression, lowering her voice and faking an accent. Ron chuckled at the attempt. “Obviously it's not the same, but had the feelings not been mutual, I wouldn't have hated him for admitting his affection.”

“This was no help.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Fine, ignore my advice, despite knowing I'm absolutely right.” Hermione stood up, stretching her legs and yawning extravagantly. That's when the clock chimed 10. “10? Already? I'd better get to class.” She threw her robes back on and picked up her satchel.

“I'll be there in a minute, gotta get dressed.” Ron was still in his pyjamas from the night before, having seen that his attempt at showering was wasted.

“Just don't come moaning back to me when you're about to breakdown, I've given you advice, so stop tormenting yourself.” She hurried away, running quick on her feet. Ron, made no effort to match Hermione’s pace, he slugishly rose to his feet. All he could think about was what Hermione had told him, now he had to plan some kind of epic reveal.

\-------------

Sorry I've been away for so long, I can't promise I'll be back to regular updates like normal because I've got my A level exams in June so I don't have all that much free time between revising and going to school. I hope you'll stick around though! I love all of your kudos, follows and comments. So please keep them coming, kick me in the as s to get active! Thanks guys!


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